


History in These Streets

by thelarenttrap



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Artist Zayn, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, High School AU, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Partying, Smoking, Summer AU, Underage Drinking, Weed, and i will probably have to change these tags whenever that happens, black out drinking, blanket fort, brunt bros zouis, but i use some lingo, but it is there, but its not important to the plot really, dog walks, eventually there will be something that may constitute as smut, i whole heartedly believe in cara and kendall okay, like I dont think it would be triggering for many people at all, like really cool, lots of cliche high school movie stuff, make sure to read the notes for trigger warnings, not a ton but some, photography harry, skater louis, some lesbian relatiosnhips, some mention of video games and such, the kids aren't alright, unhealthy habits and behaviors in general, zayn has a cool jeep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelarenttrap/pseuds/thelarenttrap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ON HOLD</p><p>"Sometimes, I just don't want to," Harry admitted. Then his eyes flicked up to Louis, suddenly bright and alert. His green eyes were so earnest, his gaze so pure, that Louis had to look away. "But you make me want to Louis. You make me feel okay." </p><p>Or the one where Louis is a skater boy who smokes too much weed, Harry almost always has a camera with him, and they meet two weeks before high school graduation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: ON HOLD
> 
> This fic has taken forever for me to write and then forever to work up the courage to start posting. It's not done yet, so for a bit I have chapters I can post on scheduled days but after that we'll have to see what happens... Also, I have never actually been high but do know a lot of people who have and am often around people who are so the smoking scenes are probably somewhat accurate but not fully and I apologize for that.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not condone the behaviors incorporated into this story (underage drinking, blackout drinking, smoking, smoking weed, mixing alcohol and weed, etc.). These concepts are being used for a fictional work and are not being endorsed in any way. Also, this work has no reflection towards who I believe these people to be in real life and should not affect your views of the people they are inspired by. No harm is meant by this work and exists purely for the sake of fanfiction being entertainment. Also, members of the boys' families are meant in no way to reflect what I think the family dynamics are really like nor who they really are and no harm is meant by the portrayal given in this story.
> 
> WARNINGS: This story does cover triggering topics. Please, please, please read this list of triggers if you have reasons to be concerned about triggering topics in stories: Anorexic behavior, depression shown and discussed at length, mentions of the idea of self harm, drugs as coping mechanisms, small amounts of internalized homophobia. Please do not read this work if you are worried about any of the listed topics affecting you and your well being.

 

_We are the new Americana_

_High on legal marijuana_

 

* * *

It was like the desert seen in a movie, when the sun is beating down on the skin of the cowboys, dehydrating them and burning the top layer of their skin. Perspiration was in abundance, the small town being baked through the last days of spring, the summer arriving early. The leather seats of cars were already burning bare legs and the pool was seeing a large increase in patrons. The town was in for one hell of a summer.

“Is the car burning your skin as well?” Louis asked, unsticking one summer sweaty palm from the metal of his Charger’s hood to lift the joint in his hand to his lips and take another drag.

“I think I have second degree burns,” Zayn answered, turning his head slightly towards Louis as he sunbathed, his back reclined against the windshield. He cracked one eye open but left the other closed to block out the bright sunlight. “Thought you were afraid to smoke on school property?” he said, eyes focusing on the joint as Louis lowered his hand back into his lap.

“We’ve got two weeks left, nothing about this shithole scares me anymore.” Zayn nodded slowly twice in agreement before looking forward again and closing both eyes to the rays of sunlight.

Louis watched him for a moment, brain gliding along on its thoughts, before he scooted backwards. He pulled his legs up onto the hood of his car instead of hanging off the front, and leaned back against the windshield as well.

“Want to take a drag?” Louis asked, offering the crumbling joint to Zayn as he closed his eyes too.

“Nah, I’ve got art next period and I actually don’t want to be stoned in there today because we’re presenting our mixed media pieces.”

“So you’re going to present the stoner art piece of the century while not stoned?”

“That’s the plan,” Zayn replied, shuffling his body to get more comfortable. This was an impossibility however with the collected heat of the car burning into their backs, the heat of the sunlight soaking into their clothes, and the hardness of the car digging into their bony spines.

They sat in silence for a bit, Louis the only one moving as he took slow drags. Eventually, he had smoked it down to just the cigarette filter that was rolled in and he tossed that to the ground near his tire, not caring if a teacher or staff were to find it later in the day; it’s not like this whole school didn’t know that Zayn and Louis smoked. Even if Louis didn’t usually smoke on school property, Zayn had left enough weed remnants around the place over the years that Louis had faith it would go unnoticed.

“How long do we have until class?” Zayn asked, one arm thrown over his face as he continued to lay with his eyes closed. The arm was decorated with tattoos, every last bit of skin showing some design he had personally created.

Louis lifted his left arm and looked at his wrist. It took him too long to realize he didn’t have a watch on. “Fuck, psychology is going to be rough today,” he muttered as he realized that he had a strong head high.

Zayn looked over, assessed the situation, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket, clicking the screen alive to check the time. “Five minutes,” he informed, despite Louis having not been the one who asked. “Mate, just skip.”

Louis didn’t think he waited a moment before answering but when he glanced to the side, Zayn’s phone was already back in his pocket and his arm back over his face. “Think Ms. Goldman will serve me the detention or nah?”

“Definitely a nah. Despite your piss poor grade I think you’re actually one of her favorite students.”

“Why the fuck would I be one of her favorite students?”

“Well one, you’re one of the only students who actually pays attention in her classroom.” This was true. Psychology was actually the only interesting subject Louis had signed up for this term. “And two, you make her laugh so you make class tolerable for her too.” Bloody hell he did, he prided himself on his sarcastically comedic abilities. “But whatever you decide, decide quickly. You’ve got one minute to get your ass over to psych.” And with that, Zayn hopped off the car, his black boots hitting the pavement and making the keys in his pocket rattle (Zayn’s jeep was parked just two spots over, the top already removed for the summer and suddenly Louis wondered why the fuck they hadn’t just sat in the front seats of his vehicle).

“See you after P.E,” Zayn’s voice called back to Louis as he paced it back to the building while throwing his backpack over one shoulder. He entered through the side door they’d propped with Louis’ calculus textbook. The bell rang what seemed like seconds later, signaling the end of the lunch hour. A few other students who were in the parking lot perked up at that, a few car doors slamming as they ran back to the building and sprinted off to class, hearts racing at the idea of being late.

“Run, run!” Louis yelled as a sophomore booked it past him, eyes wide with the fear of being tardy. Louis barely remembered that, the fear of letting down a teacher, or the consequences that came with breaking the school’s rules. He had never adhered but for perhaps the first week of his freshman year. After that, the rules had not existed in his mind. He didn’t constantly break them, no, but to him they became mild suggestions. Most of the time, he was an okay student and went to class and turned in assignments he’d half assed the night before at two in the morning while Zayn smoked in the corner of his basement bedroom. Louis always sat in the back of class and didn’t disrupt unless he knew he’d get away with it (hence his comedic streak this year in Ms. Goldman’s class; he knew she’d never get cross with a student).

But now, with freedom so close on the horizon and the prospect of a whole life outside of this town ahead of him, Louis couldn’t be bothered less with the rules. Something like an hour of psychology lecture seemed so miniscule with the dauntingness of the rest of his life, not that he had much concern or regard for that either. There was little Louis could seem to give a flying fuck about besides good weed, his partner in crime (a.k.a. Zayn), his dog, his penny board, or his car.

The latter was still burning the skin off him however, so he finally willed himself to move and sat back up, sliding to the front of the hood to hop off.

He noticed a slight mark from where his body had leaned against the car, subtly moistened even through his Vans tank (it was really fucking warm out). He was lucky his Charger wasn’t black, or it may have actually burned off a couple layers of epidermal. Instead, it was just a simple blue, bright like his personality his mum had said when he’d driven it home the day he bought it. He scoffed at the memory.

He walked around the side of it, kicking and nudging his backpack along with his feet instead of picking it up off the pavement, and pulled open the driver’s side door to plunk down in the seat. His feet remained outside the vehicle, soles flat to the ground, as his torso lay inside the car, shoulder blades suspended between the seats and his head resting where Zayn’s little ass tended to ride. The whole thing reeked of weed. Hot boxing was great but your car was never the same again, the smell never completely eradicated.

Louis deftly dug his car keys out of his pocket, fishing around for too long for him to not be reassured skipping class was a good idea, and then turned it in the ignition until the battery was running. With the muscle memory of someone who knew exactly what button he was looking for, Louis hit the power on the CD player and the opening lyric of his favorite album washed over him.

The surround sound in the car was messing with him as some vocals came from one side or the other, not to mention that he wasn’t arranged how one was meant to be in the car; instead of the vocals being to his left or right they were above or below him. He closed his eyes and absorbed the chords of the bass. His hand was automatically tapping out the rhythm against the clutch, tapping the pads away against the worn leather.

Louis wasn’t quite sure how long he had been laying like that, door open and feet out of the car, and not realizing how alarming it would look to someone else (quite like he was dead actually), when he heard a voice.

“You okay there?” There was concern in the voice, restrained concern, as the person wondered if they should be truly alarmed or not.

Louis groaned as he moved to sit up, raising his torso far enough that he could stick one hand past the car doorframe with his thumb up before flopping back down.

“Okay, if you’re sure…” the voice sounded hesitant to leave him there.

“Yup, I’m doing _amazing_ ,” Louis said. And he was. The head high he had gotten from the joint was one of the better ones he’d experienced in his life. Sure he preferred a body high but you couldn’t really get a body high when he was needing to go back to class at some point later in the day. Plus, this was the first time he had smoked on school property since the fall so he wasn’t going to do anything too shady. He might be close to flunking some of his classes but he wasn’t lacking in common sense.

Perhaps it was the extreme stress on the word ‘amazing’ or maybe this guy was just a generally concerned person but he decided to approach anyways. “You’re sure?” he asked again as he strode into Louis view, peering at him over the open door that currently blocked his way. And wow, okay, he wouldn’t have brushed the guy off if he’d gotten a look at him before now. He was attractive, more attractive than any other guy Louis knew besides Zayn. His eyes were an incredible green that were vibrant in the sunlight and his hair framed his face in playful curls. The raybans perched on his head only added to the look, the really great look, he was sporting. His white t-shirt was so thin Louis could see some of his muscle definition through it and topped off the guys aesthetic.

Louis willed himself not to do something embarrassing (an act that might be impossible knowing him), swallowed slowly and then spoke. “Yeah, I’m just skipping class, nothing important is happening today.”

“Okay…” he began to recede, still eyeing Louis like he wasn’t convinced. Then, he paused, narrowing his green eyes slightly in suspicion. “Are you… are you high right now?”

“Maybe,” Louis said, putting his tongue in his cheek. When the other boy didn’t respond, Louis raised his eyebrows and let out a cheeky laugh. “What’s your name anyways?”

“I’m Harry,” he said, taking a step back towards the open door of the car and reaching over it to offer Louis a hand to shake. Louis sat up fully, grasping his hand in his own. It basically engulfed him, what with Harry’s hands being proportionate to his lanky body and Louis’ proportionate to his petite self.

Louis’ warm skin contacted the cold rings on his hand, one on his middle finger and one on his ring. His weed-addled mind took note of this. “I’m Louis.”

“Nice to meet you Louis,” Harry said, smiling an amused smile, probably because Louis had no clue how long it had taken him to say his own name in introduction.

Harry kept both his hands on the car door, fingers peeping over the frame of the window as he shuffled his feet so they were aligned under his hips, settling in to stay for a minute more. Louis was happy with this, sitting up straighter because he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to make conversation with this beautiful boy. “So what class would it be that you’re skipping to get stoned in the parking lot?” Harry asked nonchalantly.

Louis couldn’t tell if he was poking fun or not, but answered anyway, squinting his eyes as he looked up at Harry; it was one of those days that the entire sky was just too bright to look at. “Psychology with Goldman,” Louis told him. “She would never enforce the detention.”

“Yeah, I had her last year for anthropology and she didn’t really seem to enforce any rules,” Harry offered. “So the ideal situation.”

“What rules were you planning on breaking?” Louis asked. He was trying to feel this situation out, unsure if he was being made fun of, if Harry was going to go and report him to the principle, or if he had stumbled across one of the few people that didn’t seem to judge Zayn and him for their slightly illegal habits.

“I’ve been known to skip a couple classes here and there,” Harry said, his tone of voice guarded, like he wasn’t really going to say why. “For a different reason but not one the school administration would want to know about.”

So he didn’t smoke but he did get up to something else. Louis figured he wasn’t judging then. “Are you skipping class right now?”

“Nah, I have a free period.”

“Lunch and free period back to back? You’re a lucky one,” Louis said, a note of jealousy in his voice. Since you could be basically anywhere in the building during free period (in the library, getting help from a teacher, working on a project in a teachers room, et cetera) so you could get away with a lot, but back-to-back with lunch meant you could get away with what Harry was doing today; coming back late or even not until the end of free period. It was the ideal situation to make use of the school’s open campus policy.

“That’s what they tell me. I have come across many a jealous student.”

“Oh so I’m just one of the masses,” Louis said, pouting his face a bit.

“You’re the first of the masses that I’ve met stoned in the parking lot though,” Harry replied.

“That would seem to be my specialty to you I’m sure, but I’ll have you know that this is the first time that I’ve been high at school since October.”

“What a feat,” Harry teased, bending one knee so he could rest his chin on the top of the door. He swung it slightly as he continued talking. “No wonder I haven’t come across you before and thought you were dying of heat stroke in the front seat of your car.”

“Nah, it’s usually just Zayn who’s high and he can handle himself better under the influence, he just goes to art class and makes crazy amazing shit.” Louis didn’t know why he was offering up this information about Zayn but he felt the need to keep the conversation going somehow.

“Wait, Zayn as in Zayn Malik?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“I see his stuff in the school art shows all the time! I’ve never met him though,” Harry said, a slight frown appearing on his mouth as he looked to the side at this realization.

“Have you been to the art shows a lot? I think Zayn goes to every one that he has stuff in,” Louis said, unsure how the two hadn’t met if they both attended the shows. This school was big, the explanation as to why Louis and Harry had never met before, but also not too big that Harry and Zayn wouldn’t have run into each other at a show at some point. There weren’t that many students who put stuff into the art shows if what Zayn told him was true. Louis didn’t go to many of the events himself, almost always having seen the pieces that Zayn had on display long before they were even entered in the events.

“I go to almost every one because I have stuff in them too. Photographs actually, I’m big into photography.” Harry’s face lit up at that, just thinking about his hobby bringing him a bit of joy.

“Cool, very cool.” Louis mouth was running but no real words were coming out, just his brain working slowly. “Hey do you want to…?” he asked, motioning to the passenger seat as he realized that Harry was still standing beside the car and that he should have offered him to sit down long ago in the conversation.

“Thanks but I need to get inside, I need to see a teacher about a test. I can’t afford to fail it now or I won’t get to graduate!”

“Ah, so you’re a senior too?” Louis asked, making a mental note.

“Yes and thank goodness I am. I can’t wait to be done with high school.” Louis nodded his agreement, feeling those words on a spiritual level. “So as long as I can pass my last math test before finals, then I get to leave this town.” It was amazing how every senior seemed to have the same mindset. It said a lot about the education system when every student wanted to leave it as soon as possible.

“Well I wouldn’t want to keep you from graduating,” Louis said, a cheeky note to his voice.

“Thanks man,” Harry replied, half his mouth pulling up in a smile, and Louis breath was almost taken away. He was just dashing, an absolutely dashing fellow. He didn’t think those were words he had ever used to describe someone else. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” he asked, and was that a bit of hopeful inflection Louis heard?

“Yeah, I’ll see you at some point I’m sure, and if not, I’ll see you at graduation.”

“Eleven days now, just eleven days!” Harry crowed, pushing away from the door with his excited energy. “We’re so close!”

“I can taste the freedom now,” Louis joked, smiling at how giddy Harry was.

“But I’ve actually got to go now, see ya!” Harry said, giving a little wave as he turned and headed towards the building.

Louis watched as he made to go around to the front door before noticing the book propping open the side one. He glanced back at Louis, like he somehow knew it was his doing, and then let himself in that way, turning and giving another wave to Louis before sweeping inside, his army green backpack the last thing Louis saw before flopping back down to lay across the front seats.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_We wake up and we go to school_

_Together breaking every rule_

* * *

 “Sisters aren’t home yet?” Zayn asked as he jumped and sat on the kitchen counter, hand reaching for his pocket as he waited for Louis to answer. Celeste, Louis’ shiba inu, was padding around his feet, sniffing at his boots as she smelled his own dog on his clothes. Secretly, Louis thought the smell of Bentley was the only reason Celeste even liked Zayn.

“No, Lottie is at whatever club it is she joined and the younger ones don’t get out of school for another hour,” Louis responded as he opened the fridge to grab a tall can of Arizona, cracking it open as he turned around. As he thought, the reason Zayn was asking was because he was pulling a baggie out of his pocket, a baggie with a certain kind of herb inside.

“Do you have papers?” he asked Louis, opening the top of the bag to shake the contents around a little a make sure none of it has clumped up after being shoved into his tight jeans.

“Yeah, downstairs. You up for stoned Fifa?” Louis asked, throwing the bottle of water to Zayn that he knew he would want before leading the way. Celeste padded behind them.

“Why are you even asking, I’m always up for stoned Fifa,” Zayn scoffed, smacking Louis’ ass as he opened the basement door.

“Hey, no touching the goods,” Louis chided, throwing a scowl over his shoulder as he descended into his basement bedroom, ducking instinctively to avoid the bulkhead that even 5’9” him could hit with his forehead. Okay, he might be lying there, more like 5’8”… or 5’7”… but whatever, it doesn’t matter.

“Then you don’t get to touch my goods,” Zayn teased and even though Louis was looking in front of him again, he could hear the sound of Zayn shaking the baggie of weed behind him and knew what he meant.

It took Louis a bit to find the rolling papers he had hid in a tin on his bookshelf (not that it houses many books, mainly just video games and DVDs) and Zayn made a big show of being impatient. Then they settled down to sit at the coffee table in front of the futon to roll the joints, lapsing into silence as they concentrated on the task at hand.

Louis was the one who breaks the silence. “Why does this smell so good and not exactly like weed?” he asked suspiciously. At this point, Louis noticed that Celeste had gone back upstairs, as she usually did once she smelled the weed. Sometimes, Louis almost felt bad because he knew that she wanted to be around him, he’s the one in the family that gives her the most attention after all, but he knew Lottie would be home within the hour and then Celeste would go lay on her bed with her while she did her homework and wrote her daily blog. She’s really into her blog.

“I mixed tea leaves in, raspberry ones to be specific, so that it’ll taste kinda fruity when it’s smoked,” Zayn explained and Louis thinks, not for the firs time, of how smart Zayn is, but only for weed. “Just thought we could try it for something new. It won’t be quite as strong, it’s more or less diluted by the other leaves being mixed in, but it’s worth a try just once, yeah?” Zayn seemed hesitant, like he thought Louis would tell him he’s an idiot for the idea.

“You’re brilliant.”

“Knew you’d be up for it tasting like tea,” Zayn teased.

“Yeah, well you’re my best friend for a reason.” Louis shot him a look with those words, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide as he jokes and Zayn just blows him a kiss from across the cheap pine table.

Louis had to get up to find his lighter, one of the many tossed here and there around the room. He had to dig through a pile of spirals on his desk that haven’t actually made the travels back to school with him in weeks, as well as the pile of jeans beside his bed, just a box spring and mattress that reside on the floor in the corner. He had the furniture arranged just right so he can see the TV from his bed too, not just from the futon. His basement bedroom is every teenage boy’s dream. Louis actually manages to find his zippo, the one he had his initials engraved onto, the one he’s quite partial to and likes to use on special occasions (because once you’re as into cannabis as they both were, you considered weed with tea mixed in a special occasion apparently).

They started smoking while still sitting on the floor, Louis’ socked feet tucked beneath him as he got the joint started with little pulls of air through it. Zayn is sitting on the other side of the table, waiting for Louis to pass the zippo over. After another moment he slides it across and Zayn lights his and then they’re in their normal, full on drug mode where little seems to matter but the smoke entering their bodies.

Once the first few puffs are done, Louis stood and heads to the bottom of the stairs where he plugged in his Febreeze in the wall socket near the bottom of the bannister and placed his odor-absorbing candle on the bottom step. He wasn’t stupid enough to think his mom didn’t know they smoked down here all the time but he had enough human decency to try and hide the smell from his little sisters so they wouldn’t come asking questions. As it was, none of them came into his room, ever, so he just had to keep the smell from making it out the crack at the door at the top of the flight and reeking up the rest of the house for when they got home.

When he turned back to the room, Zayn was half laying on the futon, one leg stretched down the length of the cushion and the other on the floor. Louis climbed over the back, sitting on the other and with Zayn’s foot pressing into his hip.

“How’d your presentation in art go?” Louis asked, shifting to face Zayn a bit better. Whenever they got high, Louis always seemed to find himself taking more interest in Zayn’s art than usual and he couldn’t tell anymore if he was actually high and the usual was happening or if he knew it would happen anyways and simply started the conversation early.

“Excellent, Margo loved it,” Zayn said, his eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of the THC entering his system. Margo was his art teacher; she was one of those super young teachers that felt more like a friend than a superior and she’d always been a fan of Zayn’s work. This last class was the third or fourth Zayn had taken with her and if you asked Louis, if she wasn’t his teacher she would have been trying to shag Zayn by now but he refused to believe that his teacher had interest in him. The one time Louis had brought it up, Zayn had acted like it was the strangest thing in the world, even when Louis had pointed out that the whole reason the school called her Margo instead of Ms. Rothwood was because she had told Zayn to call her that and then everyone else had decided to follow suit because no one could resist trying to be a little more like Zayn.

“Did she get the bit about the sunlight?” Louis asked, remembering how Zayn’s mixed media project had focused on the details of summer. There had been a whole side of it where he had made some sort of paper mache like mixture and created a leaf-like texture but made it the color of the sunlight that filtered through the leaves.

“After I had said it was about summer, about the freedom of the nature and spirit, she got it right away.”

“I just love when you talk art to me,” Louis said as sensually as possible.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zayn said, flashing a middle finger in Louis’ general direction.

“But seriously,” Louis said, pausing in the middle of the sentence to take another hit. “It went well? Is it going to get in the senior showcase?”

“Yeah, it was great. The class liked it too,” Zayn said and Louis could hear the pleasure in his voice, how happy he was to talk about his art and how thankful he was that Louis had asked about it. “And I can put whatever I want in the show so hell yeah I am putting the piece I spent the last month and a half on in the show.”

“When is it again?” Louis asked.

“The Friday before graduation, from 4-7,” Zayn said, the date and times rolling off his tongue like he had them memorized all semester (which he had).

“Still time to party afterwards,” Louis noted.

“Don’t want to be hungover at graduation,” Zayn said, resting his head against the back of the futon and turning it to look at Louis. “It’s outside, think about the sunlight man, the sunlight.”

“True…true…” Louis said.

They lapsed back into silence after that, silently smoking the rest of the joints. Louis got up once to grab the little candle plate he had stolen from Lottie a few years back to use as an ashtray. When Zayn was taking the last hit from his and Louis had already finished his, he began to set up Fifa. When he blindly tossed one of the Xbox controllers to Zayn, he heard it thump into his bird boned chest and turned to see the other boy rubbing at his left peck slowly, face screwed up in pain.

“Sorry man,” Louis said, making an oopsie face, tensing his shoulders and making an apologetic smile.

“Just get over here so we can suck at this game together because we’re high.”

 

*     *     *

 

“Dude, I have to work later, no high Fifa tonight,” Louis said, reminding Zayn for the second time that day. They were walking through the parking lot, headed for where their cars were parked nose-to-nose in the corner of the side lot. “Plus how many days in a row can we play before it’s a little ridiculous?”

“Hey, before yesterday the last time we had partaken in those exact activities while high was at least a week,” Zayn defended.

“Well, either way, I have a shift to work at the shop so you’ll actually have to go back to your own house. Although, you do know how to get into my room through the cellar door so you could actually go back to mine if you really wanted to,” Louis said. After a moment of thinking he added, “And I really wouldn’t put it past you to be honest, you love falling asleep in my bean bag a bit too much.”

“Nah, I’ll go home and nap with Bentley. He’s been missing me since I spent the last month locking him out of my room so he wouldn’t eat my art supplies.”

“Yeah, go give some attention to your own dog for once,” Louis said, sticking his tongue out after the sentence.

“I think I will,” Zayn said spitefully, playing along with the fake fight. They had reached their cars by now and Zayn hopped into his passenger seat, unlocking the glove box (it was the only place in his car any random person couldn’t get to since he’d taken the top off his jeep) and pulled out a pack of American Spirits. Zayn didn’t offer one to Louis, knowing he hated the taste of cigarettes, even if they were as natural as the variety Zayn bought.

Louis used the roll bar to pull himself into the other seat, swinging his backpack down to throw it on the floor as he toed his checkered vans off to put his heels on the dashboard.

As Zayn held the cigarette between his lips, he fished around in his own backpack and pulled out a brown paper bag, the most cliché of sack lunches.

Louis pulled out his phone, scrolling through Twitter for a couple minutes, mindlessly reading the tweets of his classmates complaining about their classes and the amount of studying they were putting in for finals. Louis hadn’t even thought about any of the tests he would be partaking in soon. He still had more than a week before one would be sitting on desk in front of him.

It was a silent for a few minutes save for the crinkling as Zayn took his lunch out, setting its components on the dashboard to await the moment he finished his cigarette. He purposefully breathed the smoke in the opposite direction from Louis, knowing he wasn’t a fan of the scent and Louis thought yet again about how great of friends they were.

“Where’s your lunch?” Zayn asked, glancing over at Louis who seemed to be content just to sit shotgun in the jeep.

“Didn’t bring one, I’m never really hungry at this time anyways.”

Zayn parted his lips, taking the cigarette between his fingers so it wouldn’t fall, as he began to speak but he was interrupted.

“Hey, Louis!”

Louis swung his head, looking for the source of the call, and there he was. In all his lanky glory, Harry striding down the aisle of cars, his hand held up in greeting.

“Harry!” Louis called, grabbing the roll bar to pull himself up and give a wave of his own in return.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Harry joked, walking closer, his large steps bringing him over quickly.

“Under difference circumstances however,” Louis pointed out to him.

“True, this time I didn’t think you were dead.” Harry was standing next to the car now, eye level with Louis as he sat in the jeep.

“Must have been a relief,” Louis joked. “Harry, this is Zayn by the way,” he then said, adjusting how he sat so the two of them could see one another. “Zayn, this is Harry. He saw me out here yesterday and thought I was dead.”

“I can’t imagine how you got yourself into that situation,” Zayn said, giving Louis a knowing look before leaning across to shake Harry’s hand, quickly switching his American Spirit into his left hand in order to do so.

“Nice sleeve,” Harry noted, giving Zayn an appreciative nod.

“Got any yourself?” he asked as he settled back into his seat properly, his full attention on Harry.

“A few,” he said, holding out his left wrist to show them both lettering there that read “I can’t change” and then pulling down the neck of the Rolling Stones tee he wore to give a peak of some ink there. “Sorry you can’t really see it properly,” he apologized, straightening the collar of his shirt again.

Thank goodness Zayn was keeping the conversation going because Louis wasn’t breathing evenly after getting a glimpse of Harry’s chest. And now that Louis was thinking about Harry’s muscles, he couldn’t stop; his eyes roamed to the other boy’s biceps, watching them flex as he responded to whatever Zayn had said and talked with his hands moving in front of him. Louis swallowed hard.

“You were at the art show in March? Louis was there too, came to be my fanbase because my mum was at my sister’s dance recital.” Zayn saying Louis’ name brought him back to reality and he flicked his fringe out of his face and snapped his eyes away from Harry and over to Zayn.

“Yeah, that was the show with your tiger statue, right?” Louis asked, thinking rapidly in order to seem like he’d been in the conversation all along.

“Yeah, sold that baby to a guy that night. Sad to see it go but I needed the cash,” Zayn said, a wistful look in his eyes. “At least I have low quality pictures on my phone to remember it by.”

“I know the feeling, except I still get to have high quality no matter what,” Harry said.

“So you never use film then, always digital?” Zayn asked. Louis must have been zoned out for the part of the conversation where they both realized that they were heavily involved in the art department. He sat back, listening to the two go over the pros and cons of selling their pieces and talk about different techniques, both having some knowledge of the other’s platform of work. Louis was feeling a bit left out.

“Do you want to keep standing there or do you want to hop in the back?” Louis finally asked, looking at Harry. He had interrupted Zayn’s explanation of why he preferred goat hair paintbrushes over synthetic hair ones but Louis wanted to make sure Harry was sticking around for the period so that he could possibly get a word in edgewise; once again he was determined to make the most of the situation when a boy as attractive as Harry was around.

“Yeah, sure, if you don’t mind?” he responded, glancing between the two of them apprehensively, like they would say no after just making the offer.

“Of course not,” Zayn crowed as Harry’s green eyes flicked between them again. Then a smile broke out over his face and he grabbed a hold of the roll bar of the jeep to pull himself into the back seat.

The lunch period passed much too quickly, easy banter being exchanged between all three of them. Louis found that where Zayn just grunted at his sarcastic remarks or rolled his eyes (it was all with a fondness of heart, Louis had asked once to rest assured that he wasn’t actually a nuisance to Zayn), Harry came back with even more sarcastic remarks and epigrams.

“But coffee is just bean water!”

“Well tea is just leaf water!” Harry reproached, bumping the back of Louis’ seat so as to jostle him.

“You’re a child,” Louis sassed.

“Based on the height here, I wouldn’t be talking if I were you,” Harry smiled back, raising one eyebrow in a quirky insinuation.

“Hey!” Louis reproached, his eyebrows knitting together momentarily. “I’m five foot nine!”

Zayn spit out the drink of water he’d been taking before the words were even out of his mouth fully, the windshield getting hit with a spray like that of a whale’s blowhole.

“Spit-take!” Harry cheered.

Louis just stared at Zayn, the sassiest look he could muster on his face as he dared Zayn to debate the status of Louis’ height, lips pursed and eyebrows raised expectantly. It was his signature and he knew Zayn wouldn’t say anything.

“More like five seven.”

Apparently, Harry’s presence made Zayn feel like his death would not be on the agenda for that.

“Fight me!” Louis spat, smiling while lifting his fists to chest height and pedaling them before him like a boxer from back in the day.

“I’m a pacifist,” Zayn said, a smile touching his lips that crinkled the corners of his eyes slightly. Louis was once again reminded of why every girl in the school seemed to have at least a passive love for Zayn. His easy beauty was sickening really.

“Ay me too!” Harry crowed, one large hand extending from the backseat to offer Zayn a high five of camaraderie.

“C’mon, you gotta want to throw a punch every once in a while!” Louis teased, putting his own foot in his mouth seeing as he had never punched someone himself.

“I did once,” Harry said reflectively. “Wasn’t my proudest moment.” His voice had slowed, back to its normal soothing tempo Louis had already seemed to have somehow grown a fondness for. He shifted his weight forward so his head was over the jeep’s center console, elbows resting on his knees as he spoke.

Louis was sitting in his seat with his feet pulled up, shoes still removed, and was facing Harry completely, all consumed by the knowledge that Harry had been in a fist fight once.

“What did the guy do?”

“It was my dad. I punched him in the face when he showed up on our doorstep two years after walking out on us.”

The silence that hung in the air was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Both Zayn and Louis were unsure what to say after Harry’s answer. Louis had been expecting a brawl in the back parking lot of the school, or Harry taking on his childhood bully, if the story was going to even be real and not fictitious. What he had not expected was for the conversation to get this deep this quickly and he suddenly felt like he was drowning as his head dug through its recesses for something to say.

Harry sniffed, whether from allergies or something else, Louis did not know.

Thankfully, the bell rang right then, signaling the end of the period. All three of their heads snapped back towards the building, looking at the place their young educations took place.

“We’re going to be late,” Harry said, grabbing the strap of his backpack and holding it in front of him as he quickly clambered from the jeep. Louis followed, putting his feet into his shoes but not all the way in his haste, smashing the back of his vans beneath his heels. He would fix them later.

Harry moved ahead of Louis and Zayn, moving back to the building quickly, his long legs carrying him quickly. If the tall boy had not just skipped class yesterday, Louis would’ve thought that he was one of those students that was terrified of missing his teacher’s lectures. But Louis knew he wasn’t, and reasonably came to the conclusion that he hadn’t meant to say what he had about his father.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to keep posting, I almost posted this chapter early but then I would fuck up my own schedule of posting once I week so that I can keep up with writing the chapters haha. If you're interested in seeing how I picture Harry and Louis in this story, I started a tag on my tumblr for it (thelarenttrap.tumblr.com/tagged/history-in-these-streets) it's basically late 2013 Harry and skater fluffy hair Louis. Yup. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading and please, please leave comments to let me know what you think!! It means so much!


	3. Chapter 3

_Fall in love just a little ol' little bit_

_Every day with someone new_

* * *

 

 “Hey!”

The cheery voice startled Louis, his head having been bowed inside his locker looking for a pencil to take to class. He had somehow lost the one he’d been carrying in his pocket for the last week. Louis had a terrible habit of losing things.

It was the passing period between Advanced Literature and Ancient History, his least favorite class of the day. On the bright side however, the cup of tea he’d drank during first period, adoringly made at home and brought in a travel mug, had kicked in so he would at least be able to stay awake during the boring lecture. Admittedly, some of the ancient history was interesting, like the Spartans, but now that it was so close to finals, each class was simply a review period. The teacher wanted them to come to class with questions prepared but Louis didn’t ask questions; he had to maintain his careless aesthetic even though he really should have been buckling down and studying for his tests.

He turned and his blue eyes met green, Harry standing beside him with a slightly crooked grin on his face and a bandana on his head to push back his hair. Louis’ eyes glanced further down the hall to where Zayn’s locker was, feeling eyes, and sure enough the sultry boy was standing there, watching the two of them for a moment before turning to his lock and deftly spinning the dial to enter his combination.

“Hey!” Louis said, a grin breaking out on his own face as he refocused on Harry.

“Are you doing anything after school today?” He asked, clasping both of his hands in front of him. It reminded of Louis of a small child begging for a cookie from his parents.

“Going straight to work for a couple hours but I get off at five, the skate shop doesn’t stay open very late,” Louis told him, zipping his backpack and tossing one strap over his right shoulder, turning to face Harry fully. “Why?”

“I was wondering if you’d want to hang out maybe…” Harry spoke in such a small voice Louis almost didn’t hear him over the clamor of the passing period.

“Yeah! Yeah, sure!” Louis rushed once he had processed what Harry had said, perhaps being overeager but not wanting Harry to think that this was not something he wanted. Louis had been thinking about Harry a lot, not sure yet if he had a friend crush on him, a want to get to know him and spend time with him because he was someone Louis wished to be friends with, or if it was a real crush. Louis was not really out at school however, his family and close friends, like Zayn, being aware of his sexuality but it was not general knowledge. And Louis had no clue if Harry was as straight as a doornail or a wet noodle, or perhaps somewhere on the spectrum in between.

“Want to do something tonight? How do you feel about movies?” Harry was wringing his hands nervously, twisting his long fingers so much that Louis wondered if it hurt. He was really nervous.

“Yeah, I love action movies! Or I have video games and stuff, we can just hang out and do whatever.”

“Okay, yeah. Sounds good.”

“So want to come over at like six thirty? I just need time to make my sister’s dinner and stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s perfect!” Harry’s eyes were lit up, the green more intense than usual. Louis couldn’t help the smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes.

 

 *     *     *

 

“Your total is $43.59,” Louis said with a smile. The middle school boy handed over a fifty dollar bill and Louis quickly fetched him his change, then grabbed one of the generic white bags to put his new long board wheels in.

“Enjoy boarding!” He said cheerfully as the patron headed for the door. The small bell chimed as he exited the shop. As soon as the door clicked shut, Louis let his fake enthusiasm fall. The shop should have closed ten minutes ago but that boy had been taking forever to pick new wheels and Louis had tried his best to be patient despite wanting to close up shop. He now rushed to the door and locked the dead bolt, then flipped the sign so the “Closed” side was facing out.

He deftly went through the motions of closing shop, locking up the register after running the report for the day and locking the door to the backroom. After a last sweep of his eyes around the shop to make sure everything was set, he grabbed his backpack from behind the counter and left, almost forgetting to relock the front door behind him. Louis didn’t realize until he was trying to slip the key into the lock that his hands were shaking with nerves.

He was nervous to see Harry tonight.

With hands still shaking, he shot a text to Lottie to let her know he’d be home soon. It was a habit he’d started once when he realized she sometimes got scared when she heard someone at the door. They lived in a relatively safe neighborhood but sometime fears had no root. Louis then made the walk to the small lot a block over, the only parking in the downtown area of Cauville that wasn’t street parking. Louis couldn’t parallel park worth a damn.

Cauville was an interesting town; it was one of those places that seemed to exist independently from the progression of time. It was a small town, but not too small. It had enough businesses that you could get your errands done all within the city limits, but not too many places to go. If you wanted to redo your living room you’d have to drive two towns over to the mall. But there was plenty to do in Cauville, plenty to keep the local kids occupied during the summer months and out of their parent’s hair; movie theater, bowling alley, skate park, the lake with the small beach, the boutiques in the downtown, a few coffee shops, roller rink, the diner, the playground Louis had sworn was the best on Earth when he was seven, and on the edge of town, a paintballing facility. There was enough to get by, but not enough to make people stay. It was the kind of town you grew up in and loved, but left once you’d experienced elsewhere in the world. It was amazing until you knew something else, and then you left for that something. You packed your bags. Louis knew he’d pack his bags someday, but for now he would be staying. He might have been working at the skate shop since he was sixteen but he didn’t have nearly enough money to move out, not with the expensive habits he had.

On the short drive home, Louis had to grip the steering wheel tightly to keep his hands from shaking, knuckles white and fingers cramped. Luckily, he had rolled a fatty in the backroom at work and he pulled it from his pocket now, waiting until a stop sign to light it and open the drivers side window to blow the smoke out into the hot summer air. This calmed him some but his knee bounced at the stop light in front of his neighborhood before it turned green and he gently accelerated into the right turn. He blew a long breath through his nostrils.

“It’s just Harry, he’s just a friend,” Louis told himself, taking his right hand off the wheel to run it through his hair, hanging over his forehead.

The car jumped up the curb as he turned into his driveway, pulling up to the small gray house. It was still light out but the sun was beginning to hang low in the sky, creating a shadow from the house that covered the small front yard. The temperature in the car dropped considerably as Louis pulled into the shadow, putting his vehicle gently into park as he pulled to within a foot of the garage door.

His sisters’ bikes were all lined up to the side of the driveway near the side door of the garage, evidence that they’d all gotten home okay. Louis’ mom worked a lot, a nurse at the local hospital. All of the employees shared equal amounts of night shifts, so Louis was often left coming home to act as the parent despite having only become an adult months earlier. His birthday was in December, Christmas Eve actually. The next eldest, Lottie (her full name was Charlotte but Louis’ family was a big proprietor of nicknames) could always keep things in check after school, being in high school as well. Louis drove her home whenever he didn’t have to go straight to work but today had been a day when she had to ride her bike.

When his siblings heard the front door click open, Louis’ keys jingling in his hands, they all ran to greet him, Celeste included. The twins, Phoebe and Daisy, reached him first and he gave them both hugs, crouched on the floor to be of a proper height. His backpack was falling off his shoulder and it clunked to the floor as Fizzy, another nicknamed sister, threw herself onto his back and loudly informed him that she was hungry. Celeste just danced around the chaos, excited that another human was home, her tail wagging.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start dinner soon,” Louis told Fizzy, standing up and attempting to shake her off. She clung on like a baby monkey and so he linked his arms under her legs and turned it into a piggyback ride into the kitchen. Lottie was there, doing homework at the round kitchen table, textbook flipped open to a diagram about photosynthesis and a notebook in front of her. She glanced up just long enough to smile at her brother and then bent over her books again. At least one of the older kids in the family knew how to set an example for academics since Louis didn’t.

After washing his hands and retrieving his backpack by the front door, Louis put a pot on the stove and began making mac and cheese. There were enough of them that he made two boxes, the pot of water coming to a boil on the stove the size you’d see in a holiday movie on ABC Family.

His hands had finally stopped shaking, distracted as he was by his siblings and his momentary need to be responsible. While stirring the noodles with one hand, he gazed absentmindedly around the kitchen, taking in the usual cluster of crayon drawings, school photos, postcards from extended family, and grocery lists that covered the fridge. On the counter beside it was a cookie jar that Louis had never known to actually contain cookies; his mom never had time to simply bake sweets. The counters were cluttered, barely visible beneath a menagerie of the girls’ school notebooks, unopened envelopes, fashion magazines Lottie was subscribed to, permission slips and notices from the twins’ elementary school teacher, and all other kinds of items. The walls were the cleanest part of the kitchen, painted an extremely light gray-blue. Somehow, none of the kids had ever picked up the habit of coloring the walls and so they had endured eighteen years of containing children without having to experience that torture. The only mark was behind the stove, a red stain where someone had splashed spaghetti sauce accidentally (yes it had been Louis but he never had fessed up to it, even though there was no way his mom didn’t know it had been him).

“Fiz, can you get out a colander?” Louis asked as he picked the pot up off the stove, the noodles done. The middle sister, who had been sitting at the table opposite Lottie, jumped to her feet, abandoning Sudoku she had been pretending to solve. They all knew she was too young to do the number puzzles but no one ever said anything, knowing she went through the motions because before her dad had left, he had sat there and solved them every morning. When he’d packed his things, he had forgotten his Sudoku book from the shelf in the family room and Fizzy had latched onto it. She had little recollection of him, as she had been just four when the divorce happened, and Louis figured it was probably the only thing she could remember about her biological father. All of his siblings had been related to that man but Louis. He had been a college accident, and even if his mom had never used those words he knew it to be true. She always had told him he was a blessing, a wonderful surprise in her young life but by the time Louis hit middle school and they gave sex ed for the first time and lectured endlessly about abstinence and why it was key, he’d learned to translate those words. They meant accidental child. And that was that.

Now there was no man in his mother’s life and she seemed happier lately, like being on her own was what she needed right now. Of course she wasn’t really on her own, what with having a son as old as he was and four other children. They all looked out for one another, a tight knit family unit even if they each had their secrets. Louis had heard around school some rumors about Lottie and she undoubtedly had heard some about him and neither of them asked the other to clarify. Louis’ mom had of course no clue, not home enough to be involved with the school, not on PTO like everyone else’s parents seemed to be, so she only knew what they told her. Of course no one mentioned that Louis was known as the biggest stoner in his grade, that he was nearly failing all of his classes. And of course no one mentioned how Lottie was rumored to be hooking up with Tom Reed, a junior, and that she wasn’t actually in Yearbook Club. Louis didn’t know if the hook up rumor was true but he did know that when she said she was going to the club that she wasn’t. Who she was spending time with was a mystery he felt no need to solve however as long as she was coming home and not crying when she did so.

Louis mixed the cheese sauce in with the noodles, now back in the pot after being drained in the colander, and then began scooping it onto plates. As he put a plop of mac and cheese on each, his sisters grabbed them off the counter, putting them on the table. He readied four plates and then went and sat at the table himself, at the seat in front of the patio door where his mom’s last husband had always sat.

“Lou where’s your plate?” Lottie asked as she stowed her books before pulling her plate closer to her.

“Not hungry,” Louis murmured, sipping from the cup of water he’d filled for himself.

For a while there was just the sound of chewing and Louis sat and thought about how much he wanted to smoke another joint before Harry came over and his hands started to shake again, his stomach doing a flip at the thought. He set the glass of water down.           

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out to see a text from Harry asking to let him know when to come over. Louis told him thirty minutes, allowing himself enough time for another smoke after the girls finished eating and they had all cleaned up. He also included his address so Harry would actually know where it was he was driving too.

Louis might have rushed the family a bit in getting their dishes in the dishwasher and the table all cleaned up, almost forgetting that Celeste needed to be fed too, but he was so nervous for Harry to arrive that he couldn’t seem to notice.

Next time Louis checked his phone he had a text from Harry.

_I think I’m lost._

As Louis was replying, telling him to call if he really couldn’t find the house, he got another text.

_Nevermind. I’m on your street now._

Louis couldn’t reply because his fingers were shaking so much and he realized that he didn’t allow enough time and he couldn’t smoke another joint before Harry arrived, and he was standing staring at his phone wondering how he wasn’t going to act weird as hell while Harry was visiting and if he should cancel because he was psyching himself out so badly but no he can’t do that, Harry was already on his way and that would be rude-

The doorbell rang.

“Got it!” Louis called so none of his sisters would leave the family room where they were watching _The X-Factor_ rerun from the night before on the DVR.

“Who is it?” Fizzy called.

“A friend of mine. We’ll be in the basement if you guys need anything,” Louis called, moving to the door now and putting his hand on the knob, ready to let Harry in.

He finally opened the door, focusing on not seeming too eager and controlling his nerves. He took a moment before actually looking up and seeing that it was indeed Harry at the door, standing with one leg locked and the other bent, phone in his hands and raybans on his face, torso adorned by just the thinnest white t-shirt. His mouth was pulled open into a yawn that reminded Louis of a bunny video he had seen online a couple days before.

“Hey,” Harry said casually once he was done yawning, half his mouth then pulling up into a grin.

Louis found himself yawning too suddenly, unable to respond for a moment, which was good because his brain had temporarily shut down on the sight of Harry and he didn’t think he’d be able to speak anyways.

“Hey!” He finally managed, stepping aside to let Harry walk past him into the house.

“You know, they say yawns are contagious,” Harry informed Louis. “But anyways,” he inserted, changing topics himself, “I found it.” Harry motioned to the little entryway. “I was on some road that sounded mildly inappropriate and I was so confused but then I found your street.”

“Was it Futtock Road?” Louis asked, knowing that through middle school he had laughed every time he walked past the street sign.

“Yup, that’d be it,” Harry said as Louis ushered him down the hallway to the kitchen and then to the basement door. There was a brief moment when they were in view of the family room and Phoebe turned around.

“Who’s that?!” She called but Louis ignored her.

“We’ll be in the basement if you need anything!” Louis told them again, then he opened the door and ushered Harry through with a hand between his shoulder blades. Harry just smiled all the while, entertained by observing Louis talk to his sisters.

Then Louis entered the stairwell too and clicked the door shut behind them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be much appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

_So take me to the paradise in your eyes_

_Green like American money_

* * *

 

 “Redbull?” Louis offered, peaking over his shoulder at Harry. The taller boy was sprawled across the futon, socked feet stretched out to the opposite arm rest, right arm across the back.

“Do you have a water in there?” He asked.

Louis peeked back into his minifridge. There was one way at the back, behind a row of cans of Budlight. He dug it out, the cans knocking against one another and creating quite a bit of noise. Then Louis turned back to the futon and tossed Harry the bottle of water before grabbing a can of Redbull from the door and kicking the minifridge shut.

“So have you picked a game?” Louis asked, plopping down on the end of the futon and scooting the socked feet out of the way. Harry’s legs were long enough that he could take up the entire thing if he wanted but Louis wasn’t going to let him. He needed ample room for his ass to sit.

“I’m not well versed in Xbox games, the only one of these I can remember playing before is GTA but it was the original I think,” Harry said, frowning at the stack of games in his lap, brows knit together. “Which one is your favorite?” He asked, green eyes flicking up to meet Louis’ and he lost his train of thought for a moment.

“Fifa, definitely Fifa,” he finally managed to say. There was a small smile on Harry’s face as he looked back down at the games, seeming like he was very pleased about something. He dug through, found Fifa, and handed it to Louis to put into the game console.

Louis hopped up, went to his small entertainment center (it was really just a nightstand he’d taken the front of the drawers off of so his TV remote and game controllers could send signals to the electronics inside). When he turned back to the futon, Harry had stretched his legs out to take Louis’ seat again. He was smirking, enjoying his own little game enough that he couldn’t keep a straight face.

Louis just stared for a moment, lifting one eyebrow pointedly. Harry just kept smiling, wiggling his toes in his white socks as he smirked back. Louis sighed and plopped onto the floor, leaning back against the futon. He was situated in the middle, not obviously trying to be close to Harry (although that was his goal) but within reach. It was a safe distance, a friendly one, and he hoped Harry thought nothing of it.

Two things Louis really liked were Fifa and cuddling. He had one of the two going for him right now and he was sitting close enough to where Harry’s legs stretched that he could feel the heat of his thigh on the back of Louis’ neck. That could suffice for now.

It wasn’t until after Louis had beaten Harry twice that he started to get upset. “This game is impossible,” he complained. “How can you be so good?!”

“Because this is literally all I do,” Louis said as he scored another goal. “You met me in a parking lot thinking I was dead because I was so stoned and you think I live an exciting life?”

“Well you must do something fun sometimes,” Harry remarked as he violently twisted his arms while hitting A, like that would better his game play.

“Not unless you count when Zayn and I drive laps around town and hot box.”

“How do you smoke so much weed? Doesn’t it hurt your throat?” Harry asked. It seemed as though he’d resigned, focused on the conversation more than Fifa now. Louis scored another goal in the game.

“No, doesn’t really bother me at all anymore,” Louis said casually.

“But someone who has asthma can’t smoke weed, right? They’d react to the smoke?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t be a good idea I don’t think,” Louis said, wondering where this conversation was going. “But I’m not a doctor or anything,” he added.

“But you can make pot brownies and stuff, right? So there’s other ways to get high?” Harry said. Louis glanced over his shoulder to see that Harry had literally set his controller down, done with the game and completely into their conversation.

 “Yeah,” Louis responded, “the THC in the plant is fat soluble so it can be baked into anything with fats, like milk or eggs. That’s why they can make like pot ice cream too and stuff.” Harry nodded and picked his controller back up, done with the topic for now. But Louis wasn’t.

“Why so much interest?”

“Just wondering.”

There was silence for a minute, in which Louis could tell that Harry wasn’t actually paying attention to the Fifa game, even if he was actually hitting the controller’s buttons again. Louis waited a moment longer, could feel Harry like a bubble about to pop, or like a balloon being squeezed harder and harder until-

“It’s just that I have asthma so I’ve always thought I couldn’t get high and I’d never had interest, mostly because I never spent much time with anyone who smoked, but now my curiosity has been peaked and I was thinking about it but didn’t know if it’d be possible and… yeah.”

 Louis whipped around, putting a hand on Harry’s thigh so he could turn properly to see his face. Harry’s muscles beneath Louis’ hand tensed from the unexpected contact. “You’re an art student and you’ve never gotten high?” he asked incredulously. “Isn’t that, like, a requirement or something?”

“I don’t enjoy the stereotype,” Harry said, fake reproach in his voice, “And no, I haven’t because I didn’t think I could.” He shrugged nonchalantly about it.

"Totally possible though to get you high,” Louis assured him, turning back around. “Could make a tincture, Zayn can probably figure that out as he’s a bright fella, could bake it in like we said before, could even make a weed latte for you, you coffee hoe.”

"Harry, you told me you drink, at a minimum, three cups a day. You’re a coffee hoe. A coffee whore actually.” Louis only felt comfortable teasing him like this because he knew Harry’s sense of humor to be similar enough to his that he wouldn’t take offense. Louis was sure of it.

He was right. “Tea whore,” Harry whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Louis to hear.

Louis whipped around again. Harry opened his mouth, probably about to tell him off for the double standard of Louis being offended when he’d just said the same thing to Harry, but Louis interrupted him.

“I prefer tea _slut_ , thank you very much.”

Harry burst into laughter so loudly it was like the bark of a seal, a noise bursting from his mouth. His legs came up off the futon and flopped off, knocking Louis in the shoulder and causing him to flop to the side. Harry clapped a hand over his lips immediately, shocked by the noise he’d made, as he began to fall of the futon, both of them unbalanced now by his gangly legs.

Before Louis knew it, there was a warm Harry laying over him, their pile on the floor a mess of limbs, and possibly Harry’s water bottle judging by something cold pressed into Louis’ side. Harry was still laughing, his body shaking as he lay atop Louis, the reverberations traveling into Louis too and suddenly he was laughing as well.

Maybe laughing was infectious too, like yawning.

Harry’s noises turned into giggles first and then trailed off. Louis giggled a couple more times, eyes squinting at the corners before fading away. Suddenly they were looking into one another’s eyes, blue meeting green, and Louis became hyper aware of Harry on top of him, their legs slotted and their chests resting together. He could feel Harry’s breaths get shallow, quicker, and Louis wasn’t sure if he just wanted their to be some sort of tension in the air, that he is hoping it was real, or if it actually was. He felt his mouth part as he breathed quicker too, unable to help the glance he took at Harry’s lips. They were incredibly pink, like Harry used a tinted lip balm. Louis looked back at Harry’s eyes and found them to still be trained on his own.

The moment was so intense and Louis was so hyper aware that the carpet beneath his back felt like gravel, the heat of Harry’s body like the first hot air wave from a just opened oven. It was overwhelming and Louis swore he could feel tension, chemistry, in the air so thick he could slice it with a knife.

And then the moment was broken as Celeste padded down the stairs, come to find Louis. Harry glanced away, the jingle of the tags on her collar drawing his attention and Louis wondered how she had gotten downstairs since he had closed the basement door behind them.

“She was whining,” Fizzy called down to the basement. “She wanted to be by you.” Louis was incredibly glad that the way the stairwell was situated kept her from being able to see them in front of the futon.

Harry hurriedly rolled off of Louis, standing quickly and readjusting his shirt, straightening it on his shoulders. Louis stood up too, picking at the bits of fuzz from the carpet that were sticking to his black joggers. He was looking down but he could still see Harry out of the corner of his eye and did… did Harry just readjust himself when he thought Louis wasn’t looking?

Louis was not sure if he saw it or not, and he didn’t comment for obvious reasons, although admittedly he wasn’t one to avoid awkward topics of conversation. In fact, he often thrived on them. This would not be one of those times however as he was already so nervous around Harry.

Louis’ heart was going a million miles an hour when he finally fully looked at Harry and he didn’t miss the way his cheeks were slightly flushed, barely perceptible beneath his natural tan. Louis lost himself in the view for a moment, the tall, flustered boy in front of him. They could hear the background music of Fifa, the game still in play. The fake crowd cheered for the players that were still on the screen, no thumbs guiding their motions with the controllers anymore. It almost seemed like they were cheering for Louis. Their little preprogrammed yells melded with the chant going on in his head: _Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him._

But Louis shook his head, readjusting his fringe, and it was gone. The fake cheers went back to just that and the thought was out of his head.

“Want to keep playing or do something else?” Louis asked. His voice sounded tight, business-like, professional. It didn’t fit the situation. Harry was his friend; he shouldn’t sound like they were trading stocks.

Harry cleared his throat, pushing air past his trachea twice, before responding. “Are those vinyls?” he asked, pointing to the bottom row of Louis’ bookcase. His eyes focused on the row, fully filling the width of the shelf with paper sleeves.

“Yeah, I used to do a bit of collecting,” Louis informed Harry. The latter boy moved towards the bookcase, suddenly sinking to the floor to sit cross-legged before the bottom shelf and peer at the titles on the spines. “Haven’t bought a new one in a couple years now though,” Louis told him, moving closer to the shelf too.

"Do you have a record player?” Harry asked as he reached out and brushed the edge of one of the vinyls _._ Louis recognizes that one; it was Led Zepplin.

“Yeah, let me see if I can find it.” The search took Louis longer than it should, the area around his bed a complete mess. He had to move his pile of jeans, a penny board, a long board, and an old backpack from his Freshman year, to be able to reach the case situated beside his nightstand.

“You would have one of the Urban Outfitter ones, wouldn’t you,” Harry teased him, eyeing the player designed to look like a vintage suitcase.

“Shush, it was easily accessible to buy and I knew it would work,” Louis defended. He set it up by the shelf, then grabbed the end of the cord and searched for a nearby plug.

“There’s one here,” Harry told him, holding out his hand as he looked at the wall to the other side of the bookshelf. Louis handed him the plug, not missing the spark that jumped between them as Harry’s fingers brushed his. Harry reacted too, his knees bouncing as he sat cross legged and his eyes flicking to meet Louis’ and then quickly away.

And that’s how the two boys found themselves sitting beside one another on the floor, listening to music on vinyl and discussing a bit about life. Celeste’s head was resting on Louis’ knee, and Harry’s hand was stroking down her back so calmingly that she was asleep, content with the both of them.

“It’s just not fair,” Louis said, “that they can expect us to know what we want to do for the rest of our lives when we’re eighteen.”

“I feel like even the people who think they know what they want to do still don’t know what they want to do,” Harry responded. “Like the people who’ve been set on one career since they were seven are only still set on that out of habit, they haven’t allowed themselves to really consider the possibilities.”

“They are probably scared too. There is just too many.”

“Infinite possibilities.” Harry nods to himself slowly, agreeing with his own statement. Louis agrees too.

“I applied to state schools, places that will have nearly any major I could want, just because I don’t know what I want to do. I am going to have to go in undeclared and then pick something during my first semester.” Louis was at odds with the education system, but this was perhaps his biggest problem with it post-secondary school.

“Yeah, it’s just too hard to know. I want to do photography but I don’t even know what kind. I don’t know specifically what I am going to do with it. Freelance is pretty much out of the question too if I want a steady income.”

The conversation continued much in this fashion, both of their fear for the future coming forth. Harry spoke freely of it, like it had endless possibilities of increasing amounts of intimidation while Louis saw it all as a giant impossibility for himself.

It wasn’t until they heard the door open, barely audible over The Beatles vinyl that was playing at the moment, that they realized how late it had become. “Louis,” Lottie called, “I am putting Phoebe and Daisy to bed.” Celeste woke up then, head lifting at the sound of Lottie’s voice.

“Alright,” Louis said back. “Do you need me or are they behaving?”

“They’re not happy but are listening to me.”

While Louis exchanged with his sister, Harry was checking his phone for the time. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” he uttered.

“Do you need to go?” Louis asked, trying not to let his disappointment show through his tone of voice.     

“Yeah, I still have some homework to do for tomorrow,” he said, but unlike Louis he didn’t try to hide the disappointment in his words.

Louis moved the arm off the record, the music ceasing to emanate through the basement. Harry moved to the futon to grab his car keys he had left there and then to the stairs, Louis on his heels and Celeste on his.

Upstairs, all of the girls have vacated the family room. “How many younger siblings do you have?” Harry asked, eyes glancing to the empty room and then back to Louis.

“Four,” Louis said. “It’s a handful sometimes but I love them.”

Harry nodded, quiet like he was thinking. They were moving to the front door slowly and Louis couldn’t help but think of how couples approached doors in movies, after a first date and the boy is unsure if he should kiss the girl now that their date was coming to a close. He nervously bounced on the balls of his feet.

Harry pulled his shoes on, a pair of bright sneakers, and Louis couldn’t think of what to say.

“See you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, trying to not let the note of uncertainty taint his tone. It did anyways. He really hoped Harry still enjoyed his company after spending time together in a different environment.

“For sure, I’ll probably see you guys during lunch period, and if not I’ll swing by your locker at some point,” Harry said, eyes down as he tied his shoes very carefully. Louis couldn’t decide if tying shoes really took that much concentration for him or if Harry’s “For sure” wasn’t sincere.

“Okay, have a safe drive home,” Louis wished Harry, swallowing the small lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He felt Celeste’s cold nose press against the skin of his leg just below his shorts.

Harry looked up, an endearing smile on his face. “I’ll try, a lot can happen on a ten minute drive.” His tone was so light hearted that Louis felt his chest loosen up again, the lump disappearing.

Harry stood then, still smiling, and Louis’ face emulated his instinctively. They gave each other a long look and Louis felt it again, tension in the air like thick humidity during the summer.

Louis could have sworn he saw Harry’s eyes flick to his lips, so swiftly he wasn’t positive it had been real, and then Harry looked at the door, setting a hand on the handle. “Well, bye then,” he said, turning the knob.

“Bye,” Louis responded. And then Harry left.

Louis watched through the sidelight as he walked to his car and hopped in. Louis couldn’t hear the engine start but he saw the running lights turn on, and then the headlights. The beams hit the window as the SUV backed out of the driveway, illuminating the front of the house. The car sat for a moment on the street, Harry shifting from reverse to drive, and then it started forwards and within ten seconds, Harry was gone, around the bend of the neighborhood road. After Louis walked away, Celeste continued to peer out the window, like she was wondering what they were looking at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please let me know what you think, comments mean everything! Other than that, I'll see you this time next week :)


	5. Chapter 5

_Colorful kids, oh colorful kids_

_In a black and white world_

* * *

 “So who’s the boy?”

Harry hadn’t even been gone five minutes and Lottie had come down to the kitchen, excusing her visit as filling a glass of water to take back to her room while she watched Netflix before bed but Louis knew that she was looking for details.

“A friend, his name is Harry,” he told her, trying to keep it short.

“Just a friend?”

“Yes Charlotte,” Louis said, using her full name in hopes that it would deter her from continuing the conversation. “Just a friend.”

“Didn’t seem like it when you were saying goodbye but alright.” Her back was to Louis as she stood at the sink, but he could tell even without facial expressions that she was trying to taunt him into telling her more.

He didn’t respond however, as her words had confirmed something; the tension he had felt in the air between them, an emotional tension of some sort that had definitely not been negative, had not been in his imagination.

He checked the clock and saw that his mother’s shift finished five minutes ago, which meant she would be home in another fifteen. “You should go back upstairs, so mom doesn’t tell us off for you still being up,” he told Lottie. His mom tried to enforce a bedtime on everyone, except Louis. Maybe it was because he was basically as responsible as her when it came to the family, or maybe it was just that now that he was eighteen she didn’t feel like she could tell him what to do anymore. Everyone else had a time at which they should be in bed according to her, the younger girls between eight and nine, and Lottie at ten. Louis never actually enforced that time for the latter sister, as he’d been staying up later than that for years, but he did make sure that she was at least in her room and settling down for the night when his mother returned home so that neither of them would be in trouble.

“Okay, but you’re going to talk to me in the car tomorrow,” she said, throwing a meaningful look his way as she left the kitchen and headed to the stairs to the second floor.

“Yeah, whatever,” he told her, but couldn’t help the smile that crept through the façade. Sometimes, he forgot how much he did love Lottie and it was moments like this when it was late and it was just them that he remembered how close they really were. Louis moved to the sink to get a glass of water to as her footsteps sounded in the hallway upstairs as she went to her room.

 

*   *   *

 

“You up for skating later?” Louis asked.

They were walking into school side-by-side, having arrived at the same time and parked in adjacent spots. It was Thursday, and the parking lot was buzzing with students, more and more of their classmates feeling the pull of the promises of summer in the sunlight that touched the town and prolonging their entrance into the building. Everyone was wearing as little clothing as possible and could go no where without sunglasses. Zayn and Louis both wore tank tops with open armholes in a desperate attempt for wind to be able to travel across their skin.

“We should skate by the lake,” Zayn answered, slowly blowing his cigarette smoke up to the clouds. He often liked to smoke in the parking lot before first period, his first cigarette of the day. “It’ll be empty over there today so the sidewalk along Mitam Drive should be empty today, few pedestrians.” He was talking to Louis but he knew that Zayn was using his dark sunglasses to secretly watch a group of girls in thin cotton sundresses walk past.

“True, but with this weather it will probably be busy despite it being a weekday.”

Zayn nodded. “True, true. We should still go though, shouldn’t let the crowds stop us.”

“Sometimes it’s fun to weave through the people. All the soccer mom’s get upset that we’ll hit their kids even though that’d never happen.” Louis spoke wistfully. He found great joy in not being who the older generations wanted him to be.

“Do you work today?” Zayn asked.

“Nope, I work tomorrow this week instead.”

“Awesome, want to go after school?”

“For sure!”

With plans made, they parted ways, Zayn having finished his cigarette. He headed for a side door that led toward the art rooms in the basement and Louis headed for the front. The first bell rang as Louis went through the doors, letting students know they should start getting to their classrooms. Louis headed to his first hour, algebra, down the west hall.

During class, Louis slouched low in his seat in the back row, feet stretched into the aisle. He wasn’t paying attention to the lecture going on up front, something about congruent angles, but was doodling away on his page of “notes.” So far, there was a little stick skateboarder, a stick dog chasing the skater, and a tree. It was a work of art, worth millions.

When he had run out of things to draw, he took to looking out the window to the left of the room. It faced a courtyard of the school, sidewalks cutting through it like a cross with greenery in each of the four quadrants. Everything was lush, growing in the summer heat, still enough water from the spring in the ground to sustain the foliage. The window was open, smell of outside wafting in and tempting Louis to ditch his lessons.

As he reached up to readjust his fringe, the teacher decided to call on him.

“Now Louis,” she began and he to the board for the first time in twenty minutes. “What formula would we use to find the degree of this angle?”

“Just subtract the known angles from one hundred eighty degrees, right?”

The teacher looked momentarily shocked, then responded. “Exactly… so we subtract from one eighty and we find that Angle EFG is thirty five degrees.” The lesson continued and Louis zoned out again. He wondered if by the last day of school she’d finally admit that he wasn’t a complete idiot and stop looking surprised when he could answer questions.

She called on him one more time during the lesson, and he did give the wrong answer, but he honestly could care less, as it was review on a chapter where he’d actually done well on the test.

When the bell rang, he flipped his spiral closed in one swift motion and threw it into his backpack. His pencil followed suit, falling to the bottom of the bag. He deftly zipped it and then threw it over his shoulder as he stood from his seat. He was the first to leave the classroom. 

*     *     *

The last bell of the day found both of them rushing to their lockers and gathering their things. Louis, who hadn’t taken a piece of homework back to his house in months, had a moment of inspiration and grabbed his ancient civilizations textbook, the study guide for the final pinched between the cover and the first page. Maybe he would take a look at it tonight. Zayn was down the hall, carefully tucking a small canvas painting into his backpack and then slamming his locker shut. They finished with perfect timing and both turned away from their lockers at the same moment, meeting eyes across a sea of students. Zayn strode down the hall to Louis and then they headed to the front doors together, lightness in their steps as they thought of the fun they were about to have.

Both of them kept their skateboards in their cars, always ready for the moment to arise when they’d be needed. Skateboarding was what had bonded them from a young age. Louis could still remember when Zayn had brought his first skateboard to school for show and tell and how that had sparked a conversation between them, which in turn sparked a friendship. Skateboarding had been the catalyst for so much more and still was the root of it all.

Thankfully, Lottie was “going to yearbook club” today and so they drove together in Zayn’s jeep, aviators on and wind in their hair. Louis was leaning out the jeep, gazing at the town as they passed. Zayn was playing The Weeknd’s album on his stereo, turned just loud enough to be heard over the wind, tapping his fingers on the wheel. Louis pulled a snapback from his bag, throwing it on his head backward so as to hold his fringe from his face. Their boards were across the backseat, shifting periodically as Zayn took a turn a bit sharply. Then they were at the lake, pulling into one of the parallel parking spots. Zayn, unlike Louis, had actually learned all the proper skills needed for driving.

“You’ll have to teach me how to actually parallel park at some point,” Louis said nonchalantly as they both opened their doors.

“I think you’re just a lost cause as far as that goes,” Zayn teased, pressing his tongue to the back of his teeth as he smiled.

“Little shit,” Louis muttered as he grabbed his board out of the back, not even having to open the door as there was no top on the Jeep.

“Heard that,” Zayn said, throwing a look his way.

Zayn came around to the other side of the car and for a moment, they both looked at the lake. It was one of Louis’ favorite parts of the town. In the summer, kids swam at the small beach on the far side, in winter a skating rink was set up, and there were even enough fish that people could go fishing on occasion. Louis had even seen some people kayak on it before. It was small enough that motorboats were banned so there was never noise problems but large enough to provide the town with fun. Right now, the sun was high in the sky and hitting the lake to make it so bright Louis had to look away. The water was calm, the breeze barely rippling the surface and it was all picture perfect.

They put quarters into the parking meter and then they were gliding down the sidewalk, knees slightly bent for balance. Louis felt at home with each rhythmic clack of the wheels going over the seams of the pavement. This was what he was made for, this was his element.

They skated for a while without speaking, Louis in front. There were some pedestrians, a few people who were off work earlier in the day and were taking advantage of the nice weather. Slowly, it filled with more kids, the younger ones accompanied by parents. Louis wove between them all, laughing and calling to Zayn to keep up despite the other boy being right on his heels.

Some people jumped out of their way but others stayed in place, like they were challenging the two to hit them. They weren’t going to however, as they controlled their boards with ease. Along a stretch with fewer people, Zayn sped up, coming up right behind Louis. He leaned down as he did so and untied one of Louis black Vans.

“Hey!” he shouted indignantly as Zayn carried on past him, laughing hysterically, eyes crinkled and sparkling with mischief.

Louis was forced to stop and retie it, skating off the pavement to a patch of grass. Zayn turned around ahead, making a wide arc that almost carried him into the road, before coming back and pulling into the grass as well. He plopped on a bench there, facing the water, letting his skateboard keep rolling away for a moment before he stopped it with a touch of his foot on the back end.

“Little shit,” Louis said as he finished with his shoe, poking Zayn’s arm. He poked Louis back, then darted away so as to avoid Louis’ arm extending toward him again. He was on his feet and skating away then, pushing off the pavement to propel himself as he glanced over his shoulder to see if Louis was pursuing.

And of course he was, skating after Zayn with a smile on his face and the wind pushing back his hair. They were both laughing as they weaved past a group of middle-aged women, causing a few to throw their hands over their hearts in surprise. They loudly complained after the boys had passed, upset that such activities were happening in a family area, but Louis and Zayn were already too far away by then to hear even if they’d cared.

They both sped up even more then, a stretch of empty sidewalk before them. Louis was finally catching up to Zayn, pushing off the pavement again and again to increase his speed. They were even now, Louis beside the tall grass between them and the lake, some of the blades brushing his elbow as he sped past. He was looking at Zayn, laughing still and just gleefully happy. He passed the other boy, sticking his tongue out momentarily to gloat.

And then he hit something. Suddenly, his board wasn’t under him anymore, and he was in the air, tumbling over someone crouched on the ground. He was falling, them beneath him, and they hit the pavement together. Louis felt the bite of the sidewalk, the skin being peeled of his arm as it hit first the concrete and then slid along it as the rest of his weight came down. From the hips down though he wasn’t touching the pavement though; he was lying atop whomever he had hit.

Zayn was skidding his board to a stop, having flown past the collision due to the speed they’d been skating at. He ran back, leaving his board on the sidewalk ten feet away.

“Are you okay?” he asked, crouching down to be at the same level as the two casualties.

“More or less,” Louis said, wincing as he lifted his arm and felt the sting of the lost skin. He began moving his legs, trying to disentangle himself with the person he had hit. They were moving too, trying to get up.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis was saying, sitting on his haunches as he began to examine his arm. “I didn’t see you at all, we shouldn’t have been going so-”

He cut himself off in shock as he recognized the person he had hit.

“My fault, I shouldn’t have been crouched on a curve in the side-”

Harry’s sentence was cut short too as their eyes met, recognizing Louis and shocked into silence as well.

Zayn wasn’t speaking either for a moment, and then, “What are the odds.”

“Are you okay?” Louis asked, giving a Harry a once over like he expected his clothes to be seeping blood from the tumble.

“I’m fine, just scratches,” Harry said, rubbing one of his knees as he stood back up. “What about you?”

“Just my arm, it’s nothing,” Louis told him, taking a sudden, sharp breath part way through the sentence as he moved his arm again.

“Let me see it,” Harry said, setting down the camera in his hands that Louis had not noticed until then. He’d been a little more focused on the green eyes earnestly boring into him.

“Is your camera okay?”

“Cradled it in my hand,” Harry said, “It barely got shaken thankfully.”

“What were you taking pictures of?” Louis asked as he twisted his arm so that they could both see the underside where the skin had been stripped away. Bits of grit were stuck in the skin, all looking rather nasty.

“Does it hurt?” There was concern in Harry’s voice.

Louis was prepared to lie about how it didn’t, but he saw the genuine concern in Harry’s eyes and it slipped out. “Yes.”

“You’ll need to wash it really well, and disinfect it,” Harry told him.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” Louis said, putting on a brave face now, embarrassed.

Zayn was down the sidewalk, pulling Louis’ skateboard from amongst the tall grasses. It had spun off to the side as Louis fell, his feet pushing it away as he’d fallen.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Louis asked, double-checking Harry’s well being.

“Yeah, you fell from a lot higher than I did. I’ll just have a couple bruises.”

“I’m so sorry, Louis repeated, standing now himself. “I really should have been paying more attention.”

Harry just looked at him, insinuating that really, it was okay. Louis wanted to apologize again but didn’t.

“Here bro,” Zayn said, handing him his board before going back the other way to retrieve his.

“Thanks man.”

Harry and Louis both watched him go, not quite able to look at one another.

“Want to head home?” Zayn asked as he approached them again, carrying his board by his side now.

“Probably the best idea,” Louis admitted. “How far do you reckon we are from your car?”

“I can give you a lift back,” Harry said. “I’m parked just on the street over there.” He pointed and Louis recognized the SUV that Harry had driven to his house the day before.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I need to be heading home soon anyways, I have other stuff I really should be doing. And my meter is almost up anyways.”

“Thanks man,” Zayn said, easily accepting his help.

Harry lead the way to his car, cradling his camera to his chest like a small, precious child. In the car, he tucked it into a camera bag sat in his front seat and then moved it to the back so Louis could climb into shot gun. Zayn got in the back beside the camera bag, situating his board between his feet.

“Which way is your car?” Harry asked as he did a shoulder check and pulled out of the parking spot.

“Back towards Halleway,” Zayn told him and Harry pulled a U-turn at the next light, and they were driving along the lake, windows down, sunglasses on, wind in their hair. The only difference from earlier was the sting on Louis’ arm and the fluttering in his stomach as Harry’s arm brushed his as they both rested their elbow on the console.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos and comments to let me know if you enjoyed/what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue much illegal behavior*

_You were the song stuck in my head_

_Every song I’ve ever loved_

_Played again and again and again_

* * *

 

_He’s enamored with you._

Louis reread the message for the fifth time, unsure how to respond. Zayn had just typed and hit send on the exact words Louis had wanted to hear, but he still felt lost. Should he invite Harry this weekend? They hadn’t spoken since Louis had run the boy over with a skateboard yesterday afternoon, but that also didn’t mean much since it had not yet been twenty-four hours since the incident.

Louis’ thumbs did a little dance in the air, hovering over the letters of his phone keyboard as he considered what to say.

“Phone away Tomlinson.” Louis had rather forgotten he was in the middle of an Ancient Civilizations lecture, his mind so preoccupied. He quickly hit the lock button and tucked his phone into his backpack, then flashed a thumbs up to his teacher, his smile just sassy enough to leave the man with a feeling of insubordination despite Louis having done as he asked. That was how Louis worked.

After that, he did actually appear to be paying attention to the lesson, although he was not truly. His eyes followed the power point being projected at the front of the room but his mind was elsewhere.

When they were released from class, Louis immediately pulled his phone out again and sent the response he had composed during class, having made up his mind as to how he would proceed. _An invitation can’t hurt, right?_

Zayn answered with terrifying speed. _Just text him Louis._

The most surprising part of his entire exchange with Zayn was that he had picked up on the undertones between Harry and Louis that the latter thought he’d only been imagining, warping the other boy’s actions in his mind to make them seem how he wished. He was worried he had been wearing a lens when interacting with Harry, but Zayn’s words were assuring him that he was not.

As Louis walked to his locker, he drafted a text to Harry. He erased words several times, worried about the formulation of the message. He arrived at his locker at the same time that he felt like he could hit send on the message and not immediately regret all life decisions. His finger hovered over the button, reading over the text one more time, and that’s when someone leaned against the locker beside him. Their shoulder hitting the other locker made a soft thump and they expelled and small breath of air, and Louis knew exactly who it was.

“Hey!” he said, quickly locking his phone and turning to Harry, who was smiling.

“Hello Louis.” He said it so that it sounded oddly formal, but like he was doing it as a joke, to tease, and not because he wished to be formal.

“Any bruises?” Louis asked, addressing what he felt was the elephant in the room. It could not go without mention.

“A few, but nothing bad. What about your arm?” Harry asked, standing up straight and readjusting how his backpack sat, a nervous habit.

Louis held up his arm, where a few giant band-aids covered his skin. “My mom’s a nurse, she demanded it be slathered in ointment and covered.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Harry said, sounding quite paternal.

“True, true…” Louis said, and then bit the bullet and sparking butterflies in his stomach. “Topic change,” he began “but Zayn and I and a few other friends were planning on getting together tomorrow night and I was wondering if you’d like to come.”

“Having social plans the Saturday before finals…” Harry said thinking, and Louis’ heart sank. Of course, he should have known that Harry would be studying; they all should be really. His elation deflated. Then Harry said: “Of course I’ll come.” His smile was so cheeky that Louis wanted to fight him.

“You little shit,” Louis said out of reflex, his go-to for teasing. He usually saved it for Zayn, or for the people he comfortably knew would not take offence. He froze, not knowing how Harry would respond to his teasing

“I don’t know how to break this to you,” Harry said, “but you’re the smaller one here, so if anyone is a _little_ shit…” Louis was really going to fight him now.

Instead, he settled for a completely, overly aghast face and putting his hand on his chest like a shocked old women. “Excuse me?”

“Teeny tiny Louis,” Harry wilted, moving in a way reminiscent of a ballerina as he floated away, needing to head to his next class.

“Don’t think this is over Styles!” Louis called as Harry gave a wave and began to walk normally down the hall, heading toward the science classrooms.

He gave a thumbs up behind his back and even at such an angle that Louis could only barely see the side of one cheek, he could tell that Harry was smiling.

 

*     *     *

 

Saturday morning was an explosive round of texts, figuring out the details of the get-together. Zayn was attempting to get in contact with an older friend to purchase alcohol for the lot of them and texting everyone to get a feel for what they wanted. Louis would honestly drink almost anything, but he drew the line at tequila after one fateful night that dubbed a drunk alter ego of his “Tequila Tomlinson” who had an infatuation with table tops and dancing. Rumor has it, he owes someone a new dining table, although he can’t for the life of him remember the incident or who the table even belonged to. It was after that night that he cut back on his drinking (not out, just back). Not his weed intake however, that remained the same.

Louis often didn’t realize how precarious his balance of family and friends was. He was literally texting Zayn to ask if he had enough weed for the night while Phoebe sat in front of him eating her Captain Crunch. Then he texted back Liam, the party host, to ask if he could park on his street when he arrived before going and getting the orange juice for Daisy. He had been doing this so long, living a double life, that it didn’t even faze him anymore.

That night found Louis sitting on the arm of a sofa in a house belonging to his friend named Liam, with Zayn sat on the sofa beside him, their shoulders pressed together as Louis slouched. He was cross faded, a decision he would probably live to regret, but for the moment he was elated. He was discussing the current song choice, which he had sneakily made while no one was paying attention to the sound system against the far wall, and the red haired guy, Ed, before him was happy to listen as he sat perched on the edge of the coffee table.

“So what artist is this again?” he asked, unable to hear over the noise of twelve people being in the living room.

“Jaymes Young,” Louis told him, enunciating so Ed could make it out. “He only has an EP out but I love it.”

“Yeah, I like this,” Ed said, bobbing his head to the music. “I’ll have to check out his other songs.”

“It is a good song,” a deep voice said from behind Louis and he turned to find Harry over his shoulder, come from the direction of the kitchen.

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Well not really jumping, more like stumbling.

Harry reached out a hand to steady him as Louis reached for him to pull him into a hug. Post-cross-faded Louis would reflect on this and worry that he had crossed a line but current Louis didn’t have those kinds of inhibitions. Harry didn’t seem to mind however as he hugged Louis back, wrapping him in his long arms.

“I’m so happy you came,” Louis said into Harry’s shoulder, inadvertently breathing in the scent of his after-shave and the musk of his deodorant. His shirt was unreasonably soft.

“I’m happy you’re happy,” Harry said, a small chuckle shaking his frame in Louis tight embrace. He forced himself to let Harry go then, aware that the hug was getting quite long.

Once they’d separated, Zayn reached out and gave Harry a fist bump in welcome and then introduced Harry to Ed. Being the gentleman he was, Harry leaned forward to shake Ed’s hand while Louis stuck by his side like a trophy wife at a company dinner.

“Harry, do you have a drink?” Louis asked rhetorically; he could very well see that Harry’s hands were empty. He seemed far too sober for Louis’ liking. It was always uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing to be the drunkest person around a sober person, so Louis pulled him to the kitchen where an array of alcohol was available.

“What do you like to drink?” Louis asked, moving around the island counter to stand on the far side. “What can I get you?” Why yes, he was trying to turn this into a flirty bartending situation.

“Is vodka soda too challenging for you?” Harry asked.

Louis didn’t answer, he just grabbed the bottle of sprite and the handle of vodka and looked Harry dead in the eyes while he poured them into a cup, then handed it to Harry with a smile.

“I’m going to be honest, I’m scared to drink that because you weren’t paying any attention to how much went in there.” Louis didn’t blame him. It had taken all his concentration to even get the liquid in the cup without looking, let alone getting proper amounts.

“I’ll try it and fix it, although it ruins the dramatic effect,” Louis said, taking the cup back from Harry’s outstretched hand. Louis tried to pretend he didn’t notice when their fingers brushed.

Once the drink was fixed and not so strong that Louis couldn’t help but pull a horrible face, they headed back to the living room. There, Louis proudly introduced Harry to his friends. He wasn’t even that close to most of these people, Zayn being the exception (Zayn was really his only friend that knew anything real about Louis) and then a small inner ring of friends he actually liked to spend time with, but something in his head told him that _everyone_ needed to know who Harry is. Everyone should always know Harry.

Harry tagged along, enjoying experiencing Louis like this. He was laughing and shook the hand of everyone he met via Louis’ antics, which only kept him going. They interrupted a game of beer pong even to introduce Harry to a few people Louis almost didn’t even remember the names of, having only ever spent time with them in this sort of environment.

An hour later, Louis could be found sitting at the patio table outside beside Zayn sharing a cigarette, something Louis only did when he was this drunk. On the bright side, he at least never drunkenly chain smoked. Harry was still inside, dancing away in the middle of the living room where him and another drunk boy, Niall, had taken to displaying their best white-dad-at-a-barbecue dance moves.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Zayn asked suddenly, breaking the bubble of quiet around them. They were the only ones outside.

Louis shuffled his feet, drawing them up on the chair to hug his knees to his chest. “Yes,” he barely whispered into the summer air, the alcohol in his system causing the words but his nature still holding him back some.

Zayn just nodded to himself, his thoughts confirmed, and didn’t say anything else. Louis got the feeling he’d been thinking about that a lot lately. Zayn did spend a lot of time simply thinking, what with his quiet personality.

Zayn passed the cigarette back to Louis, one of his American Spirits, and Louis took a drag, expelling the smoke out into the warm night air. It spiraled up, covering some of the stars from his view momentarily before dissipating. Louis watched it and then focused his eyes onto the moon instead of looking back down. It was full tonight.

“I’m going back inside,” Louis said, standing unsteadily from his chair and heading for the sliding glass door. Zayn didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard. Or his response came so late from also being so crossfaded that it was after Louis had already begun sliding the door open, the opening do-do’s of _Uptown Funk_ greeting him and someone loudly yelling “This hit, that ice cold…”

Louis waded through the crowd that had formed around the space between the couch and the sound system and found that Harry and Niall were still there, dancing their hearts out, completely off rhythm. And yet it was amazing, or at least drunk Louis thought it was. Harry was doing the robot and Niall was aggressively doing an Irish jig and the laughter that bubbled up Louis’ throat could not be contained, no possible way to keep it in.

“Louis!” Harry exclaimed suddenly, like Louis laugh had been a magnet for his attention. His gangly form moved towards Louis and suddenly Harry’s long body was draped all around him, his face pressed into his neck, and… wait he was _nuzzling_ into Louis’ neck. “Where did you go?” Harry said, voice deeper than usual and too loud for their proximity. “You missed my amazing dance moves.”

Louis didn’t answer, knowing Harry was too far gone to listen for one, and just wove an arm around Harry’s back to keep him upright (quite the challenge to take on considering how intoxicated they both were) and made for an unoccupied arm chair. The clock on the wall behind it pronounced the time to be two in the morning.

Harry plopped into the chair and then slouched over the arm, gazing at Louis with his green eyes so intently that he couldn’t look away. They were so green, like sunlight filtered through layers of leaves, like ferns on a forest floor, like…

“I’m getting myself another drink,” Louis announced. He didn’t know how long he had been staring but knew he needed to stop, needed to control himself before he did something rash, like kissed Harry.

Harry grinned softly and Louis got the impression he had hummed in response to his proclamation. It was hard to turn back to the kitchen and away from Harry.

He had lost his red solo cup somewhere along the way and grabbed a new one from the stack on the counter, somehow still standing despite the numerous inebriated people that had been around it tonight. He carefully poured himself a cup of Coke and Jack, spilling on the counter despite his best effort.

“Louis, my main man!” Someone called and he turned to see a party goer stumbling towards him with his arms spread out in surprise. “Didn’t know you were here.”

Louis didn’t know who he was, didn’t remember having met him before and without thinking of how bad it looked, he scampered away, hiding in the hallway between the kitchen and the front door. The stranger did no pursue. Here, he carefully sipped his drink for a moment, deciding what to do. He could feel his body being pulled back towards Harry, knowing of his very presence just a couple rooms away too much to resist. He turned, wanting to go back.

And that was the last thing he could remember from the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think and leave kudos to let me know you're enjoying the story! This turned into much more of a slow burn than I had originally intended (although not the worst by FAR) so get ready for that I guess lol


	7. Chapter 7

 

_I forget all my dreams_

_I forget everyones names I meet_

_I forget about time and space_

_But I can’t stop thinking ‘bout your face_

* * *

 

It was six in the morning and Louis was sitting on the cold tires of the bathroom floor. The toilet was beside him and he’d been leaning over to empty his stomach every couple minutes for the last ten. Despite how much it sucked, his stomach was feeling significantly better each time.

When he returned to the living room, Harry was still curled up in the armchair where he had been placed earlier, knees tucked to his chin and a pillow wrapped in his arms. The rest of the partiers were crashed in various places around the house, their exact locations a mystery to Louis. All he knew was that he’d woken up laying on the rug in front of Harry, between him and the coffee table, with the blanket from the back of the sofa tangled around him. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened after he’d gotten himself another drink and been approached by the stranger in the hallway.

A quick observation of the living room brought so many red solo cups to Louis’ attention that he was sure he had been transported to a bad college movie. One that may have been his was crushed on the rug where he had awoken, empty and cracked down the side. Another full one sat abandoned on the corner of the coffee table nearest to Harry, it’s putrid smell of old beer subtly infiltrating the room.

Louis sat back down on the rug now, staring at Harry’s blank face momentarily. His face was so soft in his sleep, a tension in it gone when he was unconscious. His jaw was slack, his eyes gently shut, and his hair swept back from his face. Louis wondered what caused it. He adjusted the blanket, covering his legs, and then laid back down on the floor and went back to sleep.

*     *     *

 When he next woke, Louis was aware that others in the room were awake. A girl on the sofa was stirring, one of her friends reaching over the back to shake her shoulder. Across the room, someone else stood checking their phone.

Louis sat up and pulled his out of his pocket. As expected, there was a text from his mother. He had told her he was staying at Zayn’s, so she had no reason to be worried, but she was probably sending him a text to remind him that she was working and to be home before his sisters woke. He groaned aloud at the thought of taking care of them today. He already knew he’d have a hangover; he could feel it, the pressure of a headache gracing his temples.

Louis’ groan had caused Harry to stir, shifting in the chair and then slowly blinking his eyes open. “What time is it?” he asked.

If Louis could only hear one more thing for the rest of his life, he would want it to be Harry’s morning voice because, well, _fuck_. It was beautiful; deep and full of gravel, like the back roads of a small town. He sat momentarily, shocked into silence, before Harry’s eyes meeting his reminded Louis that a question had been asked. Glancing back down at his phone, he checked the time at the top of the screen.

“Ten past eight.”

Harry groaned too then and stood up, setting the pillow back on the armchair. He was now towering over Louis, who still remained sat on the floor. Harry stretched elongating his torso and becoming even taller, giving Louis a glimpse of skin between the hem of his shirt and the band of his shorts. Louis had to look away.

“I should probably leave, go home and get proper sleep,” Harry said, glancing around. “I’m not sure where my phone is though.”

Thus ensued a search of every room of the house Harry could remember being in until it was found on the kitchen counter beneath an empty, over turned solo cup. They even managed to find someone else’s phone before they found Harry’s.

“I just wonder which drunk person decided to put a cup over my phone,” Harry mused as they walked out the front door together. The only way it had been found was by Louis repeatedly calling it so they could try to locate it by the vibrating noises. They had probably looked downright ridiculous, stalking around the kitchen tilting their heads to locate the sound before the call went to voicemail and Louis would have to redial.

“Who knows, you’ll never know with drunk people,” Louis said as he looked about for his car, not sure if he remembered where he’d parked it.

“Pretty sure I’m behind you,” Harry said, pointing to the end of the driveway where Louis’ Charger sat before a large SUV, the same one Harry had driven to his house earlier in the week.

Louis was tempted to tease him for blocking him in but couldn’t muster the necessary sass seeing as his headache was getting worse. They had reached the cars now and Louis could only think about the glass of water and Advil he was looking forward to when he got home.

He jokingly saluted Harry, a small amount of humor possible despite building pain. “See you on the other side.” It was supposed to be a reference to surviving through their hangovers but Louis was unsure if it made sense. He also couldn’t seem to muster enough brain power to care.

Harry either was weird enough to understand it or nice enough to let the terrible joke slide, and simply waved back as he headed to his car, hitting the unlock button repeatedly. He hopped into the drivers seat and pulled out, giving Louis, now in his driver seat as well, a wave as he went. Louis waved back and pulled out next and they headed opposite ways down the street towards their homes.

While waiting at the stoplight outside his neighborhood entrance, Louis’ phone buzzed in the cup holder. Seeing as the light was still red, he glanced at it and saw a text from Liam, the host of the party. The message made his heart skip a beat.

Once he was safely pulled into his driveway, Louis picked up his phone and debated what to respond. His heart was in his throat and his lungs didn’t seem to be able to hold enough air.

_Are you like with that guy from last night?_

Louis wasn’t out to the general public, only his family and Zayn really knew, and yeah he might live in a basically glass closet but that didn’t mean that this didn’t terrify him. What if that wasn’t even what Liam meant though, what if he was just asking because he didn’t know who had invited Harry, how he was related to the group that had gathered. Louis forced himself to take several deep breaths and then responded.

_Harry?_ Louis figured clarification was the best way to go, seeing as he wasn’t even positive Liam was referring to Harry. Well, he was basically sure seeing as Liam had known everyone else who had been there last night, but still.

Louis was inside and kicking off his shoes when his phone went off again. He could hear Celeste padding from another room of the house, her toenails clicking on the wood floors. He left the door open for a moment as she greeted him and then went outside to relieve herself.

_Yeah, are you dating him?_

And there it was, all of the ambiguity gone. He was asking if Louis was in a relationship with him, and it was Harry he was referring to. Louis couldn’t breath again.

_No, why do you ask?_ Louis couldn’t look when he hit the send button. He threw his phone down on the kitchen counter and hurriedly got himself a glass of water, nervous about what Liam’s response would be. His hand shook as he held it beneath the faucet. Louis had blacked out but he never got out of control when he was drunk, he was always just happy and fun. He didn’t think he would have said anything to Liam, or done anything to hint that he was into Harry. He had control of himself, he was a manageable drunk person… or so he thought.

But it could be nothing; maybe Liam had just overheard Zayn and him talking out on the patio or just noticed that Louis paid a lot of attention to Harry. Liam was an attentive person, so he’d probably just picked up on vibes Louis was giving off… that was probably it.

It was while Louis was anxiously awaiting a response, sitting on the kitchen counter top with his phone ominously laying on the stone beside him, that his sisters began to trickle downstairs, looking for breakfast. Seeing as he had a major hangover going, Louis just opened the cabinet that housed the cereal boxes and asked which they wanted. He poured bowls for the twins and Fizzy and they all settled at the table together. He was glad Lottie was still sleeping, as she was the only one who could read him and know that something was up. Celeste was at the back door now, waiting to come back in and Louis went around the counter to go open it for her.

When he next checked his phone, there was another text from Liam:

_Thought I saw you guys kissing but maybe I was mistaken. Had a lot to drink after all._

The first sentence played on loop in Louis’ head about 400 times. His phone was locked, screen dark, and sitting on the kitchen counter and that sentence seemed to be on loop. _Thought I saw you guys kissing_. What the fuck…what the fuck… _what the actual fuck._

_Can’t remember some of last night but pretty sure you’re mistaken._ The response took him about twenty minutes to think of and type out, what with the way his hands were shaking and all. Louis couldn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous about something, the last time he’d _cared_ this much about something. He was unshakable, his calm indifference to everything a distinctive part of his personality; this feeling was alien to him.

He picked his phone back up and wrote another text, to someone else. _Can’t remember anything from last night after your dad-dance-a-thon with Niall. Do you remember what we got up to after that?_

Louis’ reread it around a half dozen times before he had the nerve to hit the send button to Harry’s phone. He immediately dropped his phone onto the counter again like it had burned him.

It was of course at that exact moment that Lottie came downstairs, hair in a messy bun and pajamas still on, and stopped dead in her tracks as she caught sight of Louis; he was that obvious.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes glanced from him to the younger siblings, seated around the kitchen table and oblivious to the blind panic he was currently in.

“Nothing, everything’s fine. Want breakfast?” Louis topic change didn’t deter her as well as he’d like but he could tell she was going to drop it, for now.

“I’m going to just make myself a piece of toast…” she said, glancing around the kitchen again like it held the answer to Louis’ strange tenseness. While she pulled a piece of bread from the plastic bag, Louis made himself a cup of Yorkshire tea. He threw the tea bag in the trash after letting it seep for the perfect amount of time and then turned to his family.

“I’ll be downstairs if anyone needs me,” he told them. He was glad he was holding the tea cup because otherwise his hands would have shaken. Lottie was still eyeing him, wondering what was going on. He tried to smile, but didn’t know what it looked like. It was probably more of a grimace.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he slowly walked down the stairs. He moved to the other side of the room, set the tea on his bedside table, and then pulled his phone out.

_Yeah, I probably mistook you guys talking. It was awfully loud, I’m still surprised the cops didn’t get called tbh. Anyways, glad you brought him, he’s a fun guy._

Liam’s small talk didn’t ease the knots Louis’ intestine’s had curled into. He needed a response from Harry, to know if what Liam had seen was true. Had he really kissed Harry? Would it ruin their friendship? He still didn’t even know if Harry was straight or gay or what and even if Louis did fit into his orientation, if he even liked Louis or if they were just good friends, he could have ruined everything. What if he had forced Harry, kissed him when that was the last thing he wanted? Louis didn’t think he’d do that but considering Louis couldn’t remember last night, who knew what he’d done. Louis didn’t know what blackout, cross-faded him was like. Hopefully, Harry remembered. And hopefully Harry didn’t hate him for it.

Louis had worked himself back into a right frenzy and he tossed his phone onto the bed where it bounced on his mattress once and then arced through the air and off the other side. Louis’ swore and turned away, leaving his phone on the floor on the far side of the bed, and picked up a pair of sweatpants off the floor. They didn’t look too dirty. He changed into them, finally taking off the black skinny jeans he’d been wearing for the party. He couldn’t believe he’d slept in them; that was a sign in itself of how much he’d drank last night.

He was watching Top Gear reruns on TV, not really paying attention to what was on the screen, his tea cradled between his hands, when his phone went off yet again. It buzzed from the floor, the carpet muffling the noise so that Louis almost missed it.

He almost didn’t go pick it up. Almost. He knew this text would be Harry, knew his answer lay in this text, knew everything could change right now. How had he become so attached to Harry in the last week that he almost didn’t pick his phone up? But the key word was almost, and Louis put his tea down, shuffled to the side of his bed, leaned off it, and snatched his phone from the carpet.

_I can’t even remember when I stopped dancing. My memory cuts off during Hotline Bling when Niall and I were impersonating Drake. Sorry! X_

Louis stared at his phone. The answer had brought no answers. None. And he was relieved. It was strange, the lack of information allowing him to breath easy again. Harry didn’t remember. Neither did he. Nothing was ruined.

There was a nagging at the back of his brain, the one that was trying to alert him that there was still a possibility that they had kissed, that this wasn’t a no, and wasn’t that what he wanted? But no, like Liam had suggested, they were probably just leaning close to talk over the noise, or perhaps Louis had perched on the arm of that arm chair but not had the balance, falling over a little onto Harry before righting himself. Any number of things could have happened, the least of which was kissing. Drunk Liam had seen wrong and the whole incident had been fabricated by alcohol addled brains.

_It was a sight to see, let me tell you!_ Louis sent Harry. He followed it up with another text a moment later. _Your robot was especially great._ Louis smiled at his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was no chapter last week! I was home for the week and forgot my computer charger so my computer was dead and I couldn't post! So sorry!


	8. Chapter 8

_I'm just some dumb kid_

_Trying to kid myself_

_That I got my shit together_

* * *

Tuesday, Louis missed Harry.

They hadn’t seen each other since Sunday morning when they left Liam’s. Harry was studying rigorously for finals, busy enough that he had barely been answering Louis’s texts. The few conversations they had engaged in left Louis with no doubt that it wasn’t Harry avoiding him, it was just the business of his schedule. During school, he’d only seen Harry once during a passing period, so far down the hall that if Louis had called to him, he would not have heard.

Louis had been studying a bit for finals too, finally sitting down and cracking open textbooks for the first time in weeks. He’d even stayed inside for lunch on Monday, sitting in the library and looking over his meager notes for his math class.

Tuesday night, it became obvious that Harry missed him too.

_Haven’t seen you in a couple days, surviving finals okay?_

He didn’t have to wait long for the answer from Harry.

 _Surviving is a good way to put it…Wish we were hanging out instead of all this studying._ It was followed up by the exasperated emoji.

Louis smiled down at his phone, suddenly oblivious to the _Breaking Bad_ episodes playing on his computer, abandoned psychology notes on the bed beside him.

 _Then don’t study._ Louis hoped he wasn’t being too obvious about wanting Harry to come over, but that was definitely where he was going to steer this conversation if possible. Celeste got up from the floor, shaking and causing her dog collar to jingle, the tags hitting one another. He patted the bed beside him and she bounded over and snuggled into his side.

As if the universe had knowledge of that exact moment, Zayn text him. _Dog park later?_ Louis and Zayn often took Bentley and Celeste to the dog park together, letting them run around the big field while they sat on a bench and chatted, sometimes slyly sharing a joint. They always went in the late evening, as the fireflies were coming out, so few people, if any, were there.

Before he could responded to Zayn, Harry text back. Louis had a moment of feeling quite flustered, not used to texting multiple people at once. Harry wrote:

_I have a final tomorrow, it’s a necessity. But at least it isn’t in too hard a class._

Louis still thought he could turn this in his favor and get Harry to spend some time with him today. He also thought about Zayn’s dog park request. Perhaps he could bundle the two together, tempt Harry with the dogs… Harry seemed like he was an animal person.

So Louis answered Zayn first, letting him know he was up for taking the dogs to the park later and then followed it up, inquiring if he could invite Harry along. Zayn answered before a full scene of _Breaking Bad_ had passed. Affirmative.

So Louis then text Harry, suggesting it as a study break of sorts and Harry agreed so whole heartedly that Louis felt a flutter in his stomach and had to remind himself once again of Harry’s mystery sexuality. Agreeing to play with dogs didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. 

*     *     *

 Louis picked Harry up from his house, following the directions Siri told him. Harry had texted him his address upon Louis’s request, as he had insisted it was on his way to pick Harry up. Celeste was in the back seat of his Charger with her head out the window, wind blowing her fur tight to her face. She loved car rides.

There was a moment when Louis was unsure if he should text Harry that he had arrived or go to the door and ring the bell, but Harry had apparently been watching for Louis out of a window. It was only a moment after he had parked in the driveway that Harry hurried down the porch steps, waving good bye to someone behind him in the house as he went. It was a cute house, front porch with a little bench, flower pots on the steps, white shutters on the windows upstairs. There were two eaves at the front of the house and Louis idly wondered if one of those was Harry’s bedroom, if one of those were the window from which Harry had spotted his car. Had Harry been downstairs, eagerly waiting or studying in his room until the last minute, parting the blinds every couple minutes to check the driveway? Louis also wondered why he was spending so much time wondering about the details of Harry’s life.

But then Harry was in his car, fastening his seat belt and murmuring a hello. His tone was off, a little subdued and not as cheery as Louis was used to but he had been studying all day, he was probably tired.

“Hey to you too,” Louis greeted in return, flashing him a smile as he backed down the driveway, checking the rear view mirror. This allowed him to watch Harry in the passenger seat, slumped to accommodate his height with the low ceiling of the sports car. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a white t-shirt, thin enough that Louis could see his skin through it.

Harry shuffled around a little, letting one leg fall to the side and rest against the center console. It bumped Louis’ hand on the gearshift and they both jumped a little at the contact. Harry reshuffled and orientated himself more towards the window, away from Louis. The latter found himself frowning about this outcome.

“How have you been?” Louis asked. Celeste was poking her snout past the headrest, sniffing Harry.

“Tired,” Harry answered, turning to reach and scratch Celeste’s ear. She happily let him, her curled tail wagging a mile a minute in Louis’ rearview mirror.

“Been studying all day?”

Harry took an abnormally long time to respond, even for his slow paced speech. “Yeah.”

The rest of the drive was in silence. Louis felt uncomfortable even though it wasn’t long. He wasn’t used to this much silence with Harry. It was usually comfortable between them, easy conversation.

They pulled into a parking spot in the gravel lot right beside Zayn’s jeep. Louis could see him and Bentley by the gate to the park, waiting. Bentley was staring at Louis’ car so intently he could have sworn the dog knew who it was inside. How, he had no clue though.

Celeste didn’t even wait for Louis to open the backdoor, she just climbed over the console and went out his. He dropped his keys in shock as she ran past, loose in the parking lot. Thankfully, she ran straight to Bentley, sniffing each other to say hello. Zayn grabbed her collar to make sure she didn’t prance off. It was a very real concern.

Louis and Harry hustled over, both greeting Zayn and Harry being introduced to Bentley for the first time. Bentley loved people but his large frame and dark coloring sometimes scared people. Harry showed no hesitation however as he let the pit mix sniff his hand and then stroked over his head. Celeste whined in annoyance, waiting not her strong suite. Louis laughed lightly and then opened the gate so they could all enter the park. Zayn unclipped Bentley’s leash and the two dogs took off, sprinting through the grass and weaving around the few trees. Louis always marveled at how fast they could move. Celeste even managed to keep pace with Bentley despite being a third of his size. It was probably due to the fact that she was much more agile.

There were only a few other people in the dog park, at the far end. They had three dogs; a golden retriever and two huskies. They were just specks against the far fence and the owners seemed deep in conversation.

“Are you ready yet for the art show?” Zayn asked Harry, pulling a lighter from his jeans pocket and procuring a cigarette.

Harry answered as he lit it. “Still editing some of my pictures and then I have to mat them but I’m mostly done.”

“Same, just have one drawing I want to finish up and then I need to figure out how to display everything.”

Louis was excited for Friday, when both of his friends would be displaying their work in the art show. Although he had no talent at either of their chosen art forms, he could still see the value in what they did and had an appreciation for it. To him, it was the only interesting thing about high school (okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration but not really).

They stood near the gate chatting for around twenty minutes, Zayn slowly smoking his cigarette. It was mostly Louis and Zayn talking, Harry quiet despite Louis attempts to bring him into the chatter. It was mostly talk of graduation and finals. Part way through all this, Zayn pulled a vaporizer from his pocket.

“When did you get that?” Louis asked, eyeing it excitedly.

“Yesterday, I ordered it online weeks ago and it finally arrived.”

Zayn then explained how to use it before passing it to Louis. He had never used one before and he found that he rather enjoyed it. They got high quickly, Harry watching with curiosity.

After an hour, Bentley and Celeste were both laying in the grass, exhausted from nonstop running and playing. They both were panting, tongues hanging from their mouths, canines gleaming in the late sunlight.

Zayn whistled and Bentley jumped to his feet. Celeste followed suit. All five of them met at the gate and Louis had to grab Celeste by the collar, as her leash was still in the car.

“See you tomorrow,” Louis told Zayn as they both headed to their cars. Celeste stared forlornly back at Bentley, sad to leave him.

“I know you’re in love, but it’s time to go home,” Louis told her. He thought he heard Harry snort a small laugh.

“Sure you’re okay to drive?” Harry asked as they swung into the front seats.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Louis said. “Only really have to be worried about driving if it’s a body high.” He couldn’t tell if that satisfied Harry or not but he didn’t insist so Louis began pulling out of the parking spot.

The drive was again silent, Harry gazing out the window. It felt like eternity to Louis. When he dropped Harry off back at his house, he left the car with only a murmured good bye and strode to the porch, plodding up the steps before going inside without a backward glance.

When Louis returned home, he went to his basement room and thought about Harry. He had been acting so different, not what Louis was used to. It consumed Louis’s mind as he slumped onto his bed, where he proceeded to fall asleep fully clothed, and still high.

*     *     *

 The next morning, after hitting the snooze button on his phone alarm three times, he woke up the worst dry mouth of his life and Celeste beside him. Louis slowly walked to the little bathroom under the stairs and splashed water on his face before brushing his teeth. Then he chugged a whole glass of water from the tap.

When he reemerged, Celeste was gone, probably upstairs being fed by his mom before she left for work. Louis trudged up the stairs, opening the basement door just in time to see his mother setting down a bowl for the dog.

She smiled and offered him a cheery “Good morning!” She’d always been a morning person and Louis had always not. It was one of the many things that seemed to be a trait from the father he’d barely known.

“Hey mom,” he murmured, moving to the cabinet above the kettle to retrieve a mug and a tea bag. He never started the day with anything but a cup of tea.

“Lottie said you went to the dog park yesterday.” Sometimes Louis resented the fact that the only way his mother knew anything about his life anymore was via his siblings since she was at the hospital so much. He knew it was ridiculous considering she was the reason there was food on the table, but just once he wanted to actually have his mom know something about his life firsthand. He didn’t think she knew much more anymore than his acquaintances at school, and even they knew more since they probably knew he smoked weed.

“Yeah, went with some friends.” She knew Zayn, of course, but did not know Harry. He was too tired to feel like explaining right now anyways. And there was a small selfish part of him that didn’t want her to know who he was. She had to earn that privilege by actually being home and involved in her only son’s life.

Louis could barely remember a time when his mom hadn’t been busy. He knew that when he was young, before he was even in preschool, that she had always been home with him. He could barely remember it though, just a couple glimpses of memory of playing with his Hotwheels or watching Barney with his mom nearby. He guessed that at that time his biological father had still been providing for them. When Lottie was born, everything began to change. Louis didn’t remember when, but his mom had started working part time and picked the two of them up from school on her way home from the hospital. It was when Louis was eleven that she had been forced to switch to full time, as she had been newly single again and unable to care for all her children from just the child support and a part time salary. It was then that Louis had become even closer to Zayn, as he had gone to his house most days after school. Trisha, Zayn’s mom, had watched him for several years, until Louis’s mom had decided that he was old enough to take the bus straight home by himself. He had still gone to Zayn’s often though, the house boring as his younger siblings stayed at daycare after school to await his mom picking them up. He was the only one in middle school at that time.

            “Was it nice?” His mom’s question pulled him from his thoughts of the past. Louis took a moment to answer as he carefully stirred the milk into his tea.

“Yeah.” It was quiet after that as she popped some slices of bread into the toaster in preparation for Lottie’s breakfast and washed a couple dishes that had been left in the sink overnight.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” Louis told her, heading downstairs with his cup of tea in hand.

Getting dressed was a short ordeal for Louis; all he did was select one of the neutral pairs of pants or shorts from his drawers and then one of his t-shirts. Today happened to be a baseball tee with a skating company logo.

Louis grabbed his keys off the floor from where he’d dropped them the night before. Then he slung his empty backpack over one shoulder and headed back upstairs. He was glad to see Lottie at the kitchen table, her hair in a ponytail and already dressed. Their mother was in the corner of the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea too now.

“Ten minutes,” he told her. It was their routine that Louis kept her updated on how long she had before they left, as she took longer in the morning than him. She’d probably gotten up a good hour before him as she did her makeup and hair everyday. She always said it wasn’t about looking good, but the fact that she liked to do these things everyday. Louis understood, as most days he did spend a chunk of time on his hair, but with how many times he’d hit snooze this morning he had just left it swept across his forehead messily.

He sat on the sofa in the family room, pulling on a pair of Vans, no socks, and tied them how he liked so that the laces were tucked beneath the tongue of the shoes and not seen. Then he played with his phone until it was time to give Lottie the two minute warning. Once that happened, he said goodbye to his mom and went and waited in the car while she put her dishes in the dishwasher and ran back upstairs to fetch her backpack.

When she appeared on the front steps, Louis started the car and she climbed into the passenger seat. He navigated the short drive to school, just a seven minute cruise down town roads, and into the parking lot. As usual, they arrived just as the bell rang that warned students that only five minutes remained for them to get to class. Lottie always walked straight into the building from their parking spot (today they were towards the back of the lot, a bit further than usual) while Louis hung out and watched for Zayn. His Jeep usually arrived just a couple minutes after them and Louis had the time before class to wait for his friend.

These mornings were the only schedule Louis kept to, the only thing he kept on a time crunch for the sake of not getting detentions for being late. Sometimes, school mornings felt like the only structured thing in his life. Everything else was chaotic: his work hours, his grades, his bedroom, his family. School mornings, as much as he hated getting up early, were the only thing that made him feel like his life might not be doomed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't hesitate to let me know what you think! This might seem like a bit of a filler chapter but it is helping to set up a lot of details for later in the story, so just hold tight!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last bit of this chapter has some of video game lingo in it, mostly stuff from Halo so for the sake of not confusing, I am going to define a couple terms here. If you’ve pretty much ever played Halo though, you’ll be fine.  
> Campaign: The play-through, storyline part of Halo  
> Capture the Flag: A multiplayer game you can do within Halo where you go online and connect with other people on their Xboxs. The server makes two teams with a base where their flag is hidden and your goal is to find and take the other team’s flag.  
> Respawn: When you’re killed in the game, it brings back your character with full health.  
> Mammoth: This giant vehicle in Halo 4 that is basically a military base on wheels.
> 
> Also, I’d like to quickly note that I picture Zayn’s artwork all being more abstract and stylized, a lot of it reminiscent of modern tattoo designs. Harry’s photography is like that of one of the YouTube daily vloggers, so go look at Ben Brown's instagram or Jacob Dixon's, he just doesn't have the same kind of locations those guys would since the story is set in suburbia.

_I was told when I get older all my fears would shrink_

_But now I’m insecure and I care what people think._

* * *

 

During school on Wednesday, Louis spent lunch with Harry out in the parking lot. Zayn spent the free period working on his last piece for the art show on Friday. This was often an occurrence just before shows, Zayn hurriedly finishing things and making new pieces that were totally unneeded. It started with sentences like, “I’m not sure if I have anything that shows my true abilities with water colors…” and ended with Zayn pulling his hair out during every free period he had as he stressed over finishing whatever new project he had needlessly embarked upon.

So now just Harry and Louis were sat on the hood of Louis’ Charger, backs to the sun and a sandwich in Harry’s hands. They were talking quietly, Harry’s mood slightly better than yesterday but still somber, and Louis didn’t know if he should take personal offense or be worried about the other boy. Either way, he didn’t feel like he yet knew Harry well enough to mention his behavior.

“How many more tests do you have this week?”

“Three more, a survivable amount.” Harry was trying to make a joke but Louis could tell his heart wasn’t in it, the smile that usually followed such a line missing from his lips.

“And then graduation!” Louis tried, genuinely excited for officially finishing high school.

“I just want that diploma in my hands,” Harry admitted. “I can’t wait.”

“It’s going to be hot though,” Louis said, thinking aloud. “I can’t believe they just set up chairs on the football field.

“Probably saves them a ton of money though since they don’t rent out a venue,” Harry mused.

“True, but if my grandma passes out I won’t be happy.”

“I’ve heard that there’s at least one fainter every year,” Harry said. “Or at least rumor has it.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. It’s supposed to be in the eighties on Saturday.”

Their conversation continued much in this manner, talking about graduation and then moving on to their plans for the summer. Harry inquired about Louis’s. “I’ll just be working at the skate shop, although I don’t think my boss will be able to give me more hours so I won’t be very busy. What about you?”

“That smoothie place downtown interviewed me in the spring and I have a part-time job their starting in two weeks and then I need to be taking some pictures to show that I kept at it over the summer, otherwise they’ll revoke my acceptance.”

Louis suddenly realized he didn’t know where Harry was planning on attending university. It seemed a great lapse as they’d been spending so much time together. “Who is ‘they?’”

“SAIC,” Harry told him, turning and meeting Louis’ gaze as he took another bite of sandwich.

“School of the Art Institute of Chicago?” Louis asked, making sure he was getting it right. If he was correct, it meant Harry would be only an hour from home when he was away at school.

“Yup, got accepted there in the fall and officially told them I am coming about a month ago. Made the decision kind of late but at least they would still let me.”

Louis nodded, agreeing.

“Where are you going to be next year?” It was the question Louis knew would be coming but had wished wouldn’t be asked.

“I still haven’t decided. I didn’t get accepted to many of the places I applied.”

There was silence for a moment, as Harry floundered for what to say.

“Where were you accepted?” Harry’s tone only said he was curious, none of the judgment Louis had received from other people when they realized he didn’t have great college prospects. Louis was thankful for that.

“Southern Illinois and Illinois State.” His tone let Harry know that he was a bit done with the topic, and Harry was smart and picked up on it. Louis didn’t enjoy talking about his future in this way.

“How’s Celeste? Did she enjoy the walk yesterday?” It was a blatantly obvious change of topic but Louis was thankful all the same.

“Yeah, she crashed when we got home, too much fun.” Harry smiled and everything felt okay.

 *     *     *

It was ninth period on Friday, and for the first time his senior year, Louis wasn’t leaving the building as soon as the bell rang.

The art show didn’t start immediately after school, there was about three hours for the artists to set up their areas and get ready for the community to arrive. Louis had offered to stay and help Harry and Zayn set up their displays as both of them seemed to be losing their minds over every detail of the showcase. Louis didn’t have to work, so he’d just be going home to smoke or play FIFA and then come back anyways.

When the bell did ring, Louis headed to his locker, leaving his backpack their for the time being, and then headed to Zayn’s down the hall.

He was leaning against the locker, waiting for Zayn to arrive (his last class was across the building, in the language department, and so his walk was further than Louis’s had been) when Harry walked up.

“Ready for chaos?” he asked, his face the most animated Louis had seen it all week.

“So ready,” Louis told him, pushing himself off the lockers. He always felt so short around Harry and although he admittedly liked it, he didn’t like to feel shorter than necessary. Slouching against the wall had cost him two or three inches of height. Louis was at terms with the fact that he had a complex about his height but that wasn’t going to stop whatever behavior of his stemmed from it.

“I think Zayn might have gone straight to the art rooms,” Harry told him. “I saw him in the hall today and he’s more panicked than I am so he’s probably trying to start setting up ASAP.”

“Let’s go then,” Louis said. He started to lead the way through the throngs of students leaving the school for the last time this year, some for the last time ever. Louis thought about how he’d been looking forward to doing the latter for years but now that the time had arrived, he wasn’t. Somewhere between then and the present, he’d made friends and what a mistake that had been (full sarcasm intended).

The problem with navigating to the art rooms was that they were in the opposite direction from the front doors of the school, a.k.a. where everyone else was headed. Louis found himself trying to fight a crowd that was impossible, like trying to swim against the current of the ocean on the windiest day. Eventually, they were at a standstill, caught against the lockers only one hallway over from where Louis’s and Zayn’s lockers were.

“Here,” Harry said, squeezing past Louis, the entirety of their bodies momentarily brushing together, “Let me see…” Harry didn’t finish his sentence and Louis was too preoccupied to listen even if he had but suddenly there was a hand grabbing his wrist and Harry was pulling him along as he pushed through the students, his height giving him the advantage. People could see him coming from a slight distance and so they moved out of his way. Louis felt embarrassed about his terrible attempt but whatever, it was _fine_.

Louis was distracted from being sore about the height thing however by realizing that Harry was holding his wrist to pull him through the crowd. His whole hand wrapped around Louis’s wrist, his fingers overlapping considerably with his thumb on the underside. After they got through the crowd, to a hallway that had already emptied of vacating students, Harry didn’t let go. Louis was okay with that.

Zayn was indeed in one of the art rooms, and the moment they walked in and saw him was the moment that Harry dropped his hold on Louis’ wrist. Louis tried not to visibly pout. The room was full of students, artists hurriedly putting finishing touches on pieces and arranging their displays. If this was what only one of the art classrooms looked like today, then Louis could suddenly understand how Harry and Zayn had never officially met before that day in the parking lot; there was a _ton_ of art students.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here,” Zayn said, barely glancing up from the drawing he was matting as they approached. “We have so much to do, Harry how have you not started setting up your backdrop yet?”

“Because I am not quite as paranoid as you,” Harry teased, moving across the room to pull his pieces from a shelf on the wall where they had been neatly stacked. He then grabbed a large trifold board from a stack along the wall. Everyone used them, decorating the board how they saw fit, and set them on small rows of desks in the library for the show.

“I can’t believe you don’t have anything mounted yet,” Zayn said, glancing at his own board that was half full of drawings and paintings.

“What can I do?” Louis asked Zayn, recognizing that he was the one who truly needed some extra hands right now.

“Can you mat that piece?” Zayn asked, motioning towards a beautiful watercolor of the town lake. “One inch borders, the paper is by the cutter.”

Louis glanced at the giant paper cutter, blade glinting in the sunshine coming through the window from the courtyard. He gulped. “I’ll try not to fuck it up,” he told Zayn, who glanced at him hurriedly, a threat in his eyes.

“If you cut my painting, I swear to god-”

“It’ll be fine,” Louis assured him, but Zayn didn’t look settled.

The next hour continued in this fashion, a system working out between the three of them. Harry still needed to mat about half his photos and Zayn had a few pieces too, so Louis took over the paper cutter and sliced the paper to the needed sizes for them as they assembled their boards. Harry’s slowly gained meticulously placed 5 x 6 photos all matted in black, while Zayn’s was more abstract, with different color mattings that all fit the same color scheme. A few paintings were on angles, and a couple had corners that hung off the edge of the board.

There were other students in the room too, assembling their things. One girl walked in and proceeded to heft a box into her arms full of her pottery from the entire year. Louis worried that she wouldn’t make it to the library with the heavy thing in her arms but she muscled it out the door no problem. He hoped it all made it in one piece.

One of the art teachers was there too, answering questions, helping people find supplies, and calling out the time occasionally. He questioned Louis’s presence momentarily, not having ever had him in an art class, but when Zayn called to him the dimensions he needed for the mat of his next piece, the teacher understood and simply nodded.

With an hour to go, Zayn and Harry were both ready to take their boards to the library. As they each carried their boards, slowly walking so the breeze from their movements would not disturb any of the pieces, Louis carried a stack of Zayn’s canvas painting that would be leaning against the legs of the desk. Atop the stack was a digital picture frame Harry intended to set on the desk in front of his board. It would pan through a series of pictures he had taken over spring break while exploring the nearby state park. Louis was excited to see it.

The library was a new level of hectic, as every student featured in the show was here and scrambling to be ready in time. Some of them had already changed into their more professional outfits, while some still needed to do so (like Harry and Zayn). Louis held down the fort, standing between their half set up displays, while they ran to the bathrooms to change.

While they were gone, Louis attempted to arrange Zayn’s canvas paintings. He knew it was probably in vain as Zayn would move them all when he returned but it was nice to have a little something to do. Looking at the paintings however, it was easy to pick out which Zayn had done while high and which he hadn’t and Louis was hit with the urge to smoke, the desire to go out to the parking lot for just a couple minutes. Self control had never been his strong suit.

While he tried to keep himself from doing just that, Louis searched for a power outlet to plug Harry’s digital frame into. It was an interesting way to display his work, as every other photographer in the room had printed out all of their photographs they wished to display, but it was a rather cool way to embrace new technology for the show. It also saved Harry time and money on developing them all in the school’s dark room.

“How’s everything looking?” Louis was startled by Harry’s voice behind him, not having heard him return.

“Good, just trying to find an outlet for—“ Louis cut himself off mid sentence as he turned and caught sight of Harry. He had changed into a crisp black ,buttoned shirt, black skinny jeans, and brown suede boots and Louis eyes were probably bugging out of his skull. He quickly reined them in and looked away, not trusting himself.

Louis cleared his throat. “Finding an outlet for the frame.”

“I thought I saw one to the right of the desks,” Harry said and Louis wasn’t sure if he imagined the smile in his voice or not.

“Oh yeah, I see it,” Louis said, crouching to reach beneath the far right desk and plug it in. “There.”

Harry took an SD card from his pocket and slipped it into the frame. It took a few moments and then the frame was displaying a slideshow of his work from the forest preserve.

“Lovely,” Louis said as a picture of a great blue heron beside a small forest pond appeared, framed by tree trunks and leaves.

“Thanks,” Harry said. Louis was still imagining the smile in his voice.

Zayn returned then, wearing black skinnies as well with a collared shirt and a leather jacket. Louis was astounded by his ability to dress up and still retain his perfect aesthetic. It was a magic skill.

They were down to fifteen minutes until the doors would open. Zayn was alternating between smoothing his shirt and tweaking the angles at which his canvas paintings leaned against the legs of the desk. Harry was watching his own slideshow of photographs, absorbed in making sure they were being displayed in the order he wanted.

Neither seemed to need Louis at the moment, so he took the opportunity to exit the library and head to the bathroom. He had to pee like a motherfucker.

When he returned, it was time for the show to start. Louis spent the beginning near Zayn and Harry, listening as they conversed with people viewing their art and even sold a few pieces. Then he took to wandering, looking at what the other art students had to display. He spent a long while marveling at the coffee mugs one girl had spun out of clay and the awesome speckled glaze she had used that made them look reptilian.

“They’re for sale,” she told him hopefully, but he softly declined.

An hour in, he returned to Zayn and Harry, having made his circuit of the room. “Think I’m going to head out,” he told them.

“Thanks for the help earlier,” Zayn said, pulling him into a quick hug. “Would have been even more stressed without you.”

“You will always stress about your art,” Louis told Zayn. The latter shrugged in subtle recognition of the truth in the statement.

“Thanks for the help,” Harry told Louis, briefly resting his hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“No problem,” Louis said as Harry gazed at him softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He asked as he began to back away, pointing a finger at Harry and then to Zayn, making each of them remember the importance of the next day.

“I’ll be there at ten,” Harry said, smile on his lips. “And then we’ll graduate.”

“Mandatory school’ll be out forever,” Zayn crowed, the volume of his voice just low enough to not draw attention.

“See you two then.” With a smile, Louis turned and headed out of the library.

*     *     *

That night, after Zayn was done at the art show, all his artwork taken home and his supplies cleared from his cubby in the art room, he came over to Louis’ house. He didn’t text before arriving, knowing Louis would be there. Although a few parties were being thrown tonight, Louis had opted not to attend as Saturday and Sunday night would both be graduation parties; Ed’s and Zayn’s.

The cellar door swung out, creaking like something from a horror movie, then Zayn slipped in, closing it behind him and shrugging of his leather jacket. “Hey bud,” Louis greeted, not tearing his eyes away from the TV screen. His gun bounced on the right of the screen as his character jumped across a small gap in the floor. “Want to help me fight some aliens?”

“ _Halo_?” Zayn guessed, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the futon beside Louis. His guess was confirmed as soon as he could see the screen. “When you hit checkpoint, you should leave the campaign and then we can get into a game of capture the flag.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Louis said as he held the trigger, emptying an entire cartridge into the large alien charging his player.

“It’s sweltering down here,” Zayn said, stating the obvious.

“That’s why I am basically wearing nothing. The air conditioning can’t keep up with the heat today.” It was true, the air conditioner had been whining like it was on it’s last leg and his mom had turned it down, declaring that it was officially too hot to keep the house cool (oh the irony). Louis had immediately put on his most oversized tank top, loose enough that air could flow through the arm holes and cross his chest when he moved, and a pair of athletic shorts.

“Strip,” he told Zayn, eyeing his waffle knit shirt and jean shorts. He would bake if he kept that on. Louis didn’t even understand how he’d managed to come over in a leather jacket without passing out along the way.

“I’m borrowing a shirt,” Zayn told Louis, hopping back to his feet and moving across the room to raid Louis’ chest of drawers. He found a plain white shirt and swapped it for his own, then returned to the futon. “Much better,” he said.

It was silent for several minutes except for the gun shot noises and cries of aliens from _Halo._ “The big guys are so dramatic,” Louis noted as he took out a large purple alien. “The screams are so drawn out.”

Zayn nodded in agreement. “Did you just hit checkpoint?” he said, eyes focused on the screen.

Louis didn’t answer, just paused the game, saved, and exited to the main menu to connect to Xbox Live and bein a game of capture the flag. Zayn crawled off the futon to grab the extra controller sitting on the floor.

 

An hour later, they were still sat on the futon, controllers in hand, button smashing. Louis’s phone buzzed and he quickly reached over and held down the home button. “Read me my messages,” Louis said, hurriedly returning his thumb to the controller to evade the grenade someone had just thrown his way.

“You have one new message from Liam,” Siri told him. “It says, ‘Are you guys fucking high right now?’ Would you like to respond.”

They both burst into laughter at the same moment, losing control of their characters on screen. Louis missed the window of opportunity to have Siri respond to Liam, so when he had himself under control again, he text him back:

_Are we really doing that badly?_

The answer came quickly. _We’ve played three games now and you’ve managed to sabotage every one of them._

_Good._

“What’s he saying?” Zayn asked, game on the screen forgotten.

“He thinks we are sabotaging the game.”

“He’s not wrong,” Zayn said, picking his controller up. He pushed down the right control stick to sight with his sniper rifle, searching the hill behind him for Liam’s character. He saw him beside a tree, standing perfectly still. Liam was obviously still on his phone texting in real life. Zayn shot him.

Louis phone buzzed almost immediately. _You’ve got to be fucking kidding me._ Then it buzzed again. _I’m going to kill Zayn_.

_Wow, double text? Bit much don’t you think?_

Liam’s response was priceless.

_I will fucking triple text you._

Two seconds passed.

_I don’t care._

Another two seconds.

_Fight me._

“He used my line!” Louis said, fake offense in his tone. “No one uses my line.”

“Louis, you didn’t even come up with that. You saw it on the Internet.”

Louis ignored Zayn, picking up his Xbox controller and began playing again. “Do you think he respawned in the Mammoth?”

“Probably, I respawned there earlier.”

Louis’ character began running for the giant vehicle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought please!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little later than usual, I had a super busy Sunday!

_If I lose myself tonight_

_It’ll be by your side_

* * *

 

Saturday morning, Louis woke at seven, a monumentally early time for him when he didn’t have anywhere to be until ten. He couldn’t help himself however, his excitement too much to remain asleep. He was like a child on Christmas morning. It was ironic, because it wasn’t the fact that he’d academically made it through high school that mattered to him. Sure he’d done well on his finals, studying at the very last minute and passing each of them with just enough grade cushion that his grand plan of succeeding but never too much remained intact. Minimal effort was his thing. The excitement for today stemmed from the idea of freedom. He was so _done_ with mandatory school, of the government demanding his presence in a classroom teaching him biased history lessons or inaccurate sex education. He hated that he was expected to do hours of homework each night and return the next morning and be happy to be there. Fuck that, of course he’d never been happy to show up to school at seventy thirty in the morning, let alone be ready to absorb information at that time. Today marked his final release from all of that, his day for _freedom_.

His mom looked surprised when he came up to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Zayn had been over until two in the morning so Louis had gotten almost no sleep.

“You’re up early,” she commented as she read the paper at the table, glass of orange juice beside her hand. He shrugged in response.

He busied himself with making a cup of tea, setting the kettle to boil and then opening the cabinet above to select a tea bag (English breakfast of course). It was silent for a few minutes, just his mother moving to the table with the newspaper and Louis waiting for the water to boil.

When Louis heard the paper rustle, being folded away, he knew she was about to address him. He sighed. “I’m just so proud of you, you’re about to graduate and that’s such an accomplishment sweetie.”

Louis immediately began to tune her out. He loved his mom, but she made a big deal out of things like this, like she didn’t think he could accomplish anything. She thought it was a motivation for her to be proud of him, but in reality he hated it because it was recognition of the fact that there was a chance he wouldn’t have graduated. He was a smart kid, he just didn’t apply himself and it was so frustrating for her to not see that fact and understand that her being proud did nothing for the situation. He did the bare minimum on purpose, maintaining a perfect balance of least amount of work while still succeeding. It was a very purposeful move on his part. He supposed with how little she was home, and even then how little of that time she could spend with him, what with the girls all being younger, he shouldn’t really expect her to be able to decipher his intentions to such a degree but it didn’t mean it wasn’t exhausting to listen to her talk about the topic.

So Louis just nodded along, making her think he was paying attention as he bore a hole with his eyes through the side of the kettle. Maybe he could gain laser vision so that he could heat up the kettle faster.

Just as his mom stopped talking, the kettle began whistling. It gave him an excuse to not respond and make his tea.

*     *     *

“An exceptional group of students is here before me,” the principle said, motioning to the neatly arranged rows of kids in front of him. “All five hundred seventy one of them are exceptional individuals with so much potential in their futures.”

The principle’s speech was meant to be inspiring, however Louis was finding himself zoning out. The sun was warm and he was wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt, not the coolest clothes, let alone beneath a graduation robe. At least the robes were white, the school opting for that rather than the bright golden orange that was the other traditional color. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Louis’s skin and his eyes were squinted against the brightness of the midday sun. Not only that, but the sun was reflecting off the white robes, like snow in the wintertime, and it was rather blinding. He wished he had thought to wear sunglasses.

He knew Harry was down the row from him, the last seat to his right, but he couldn’t seem him. The forty or so students that sat between them were blocking his view. Zayn was about ten rows ahead, the back of his head visible to Louis. He had turned around once, right at the beginning of the ceremony, when all the students had just been seated and the band was finishing their number. The smile he had shot to Louis had been so gleeful, Louis hadn’t been able to not smile back.

A shadow passed over the crowd and Louis glanced up to see a bird flying over, a morning dove. Louis idly wondered what would happen if the bird were to shit on someone in the crowd. He hoped it would, for the sake of entertainment. The bird shit would stain the white graduation robe of the unlucky student incredibly badly.

The principle’s speech was still going, on and on. Louis never understood why people who gave formal speeches didn’t understand the concept of short and sweet. Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he glanced over to see someone’s mother fanning herself with the graduation program. Sat just behind her, however was Louis’ family and he turned his attention to them. His mother, grandmother, and Lottie were all focused on the principle’s speech, heads turned to the end of the football field. Phoebe, Fizzy, and Daisy where all watching him however, breaking out into huge grins when he noticed them and waving manically. He waved back subtly, satisfying them to sit their small frames on the seats and stop flagging him down like a landing airplane. He tried not to smile to himself but couldn’t help it.

Eventually, the principle finished his speech. He moved back from the podium and the valedictorian, a girl Louis’ recognized but had never met, walked up and began hers. She understood the concept of short and sweet somewhat better and it was a bearable five minutes before she went back to her seat too. Then, it was time to hand out diplomas. It took more than half an hour of quickly mentioned names and small rounds of applause from parents as their child’s name was called before it was time for Louis’ row to stand. Zayn had gone up fifteen minutes ago, striding across the stage with his quick walk and accepting his diploma. Louis saw him turn around and shoot a smile as Louis stood. Louis gave him a quick nod, then looked down the row to where he could see Harry. He was the last one on the other end, leading the row up to the front. He strode confidently, long legs covering the ground between them and the temporary stage in little time, but the set of his shoulders said he was nervous. Louis didn’t blame him, he himself was rather scared of tripping or doing something wrong. They had all received a lengthy email explaining exactly what to do while crossing the platform, who’s hand to shake and who to get the diploma from but he thought he spoke for everyone when he said that he was worried he would forget.

“Louis Tomlinson” the principle said into the microphone and suddenly it was his turn. He walked up the stage, shook hands with the principle, had his diploma handed to him by the board leader of the school district, shook the hand of the dean (who he happened to be well acquainted with), and then marched off the other side of the platform. Here, a photographer quickly asked him to hold up his diploma and smile. He did so, the shutter snapped, and he was headed back to his seat. He almost didn’t believe it had happened, the exact moment of his graduation already a quick blur.

He squeezed down the aisle, barely able to see Harry’s head over the others already sat back down between them. He saw the other boy perk up, sitting straighter to push his head just enough to see Louis and shoot him a toothy grin. Louis’s responding smile did not include teeth but was just as gleeful as the one he had received. Then he sat.

The ceremony lasted for another half an hour, the rest of the students receiving their diplomas and one last speech from the principle to lead up to the announcement that they could now throw their caps.

Louis flung his as high as possible, catapulting it into the air with an underhand toss. He lost sight of it amongst the other 500+ hats in the air, and then they all came crashing down. As his head was knocked by no less than four hats, Louis wondered who had ever come up with the tradition of throwing the hats and if they had harbored a wish for people to lose an eye.

They were supposed to file back into the school in an orderly fashion, to finish the ceremony professionally and then let all hell break loose, but not many students remembered or chose to follow this order. Louis was the latter. He exited his aisle and went straight to his family in the bleachers, receiving a big hug from his mom and then being enveloped by all of his sisters at once.

“Congratulations!” Fizzy sang into his ear before planting a big kiss on his cheek.

The twins were clung to his legs, heads waist high, and he stooped to give each of them a proper hug. “Yay!” Phoebe chirped. “Yay for you!” His grandmother gave him a silent hug with a smile on her withered face.

Soon, Zayn found Louis, his family in tow, and he pulled Louis into a quick hug, his hand patting between Louis shoulder blades. “We did it,” he said as they pulled apart. “Success!”

Louis smiled, feeling his eyes crinkling at the sides. Zayn’s mom quickly gave him a hug, telling him a quick congrats. She’d always liked Louis more than he could understand. Soon, both families fell into conversation together, sisters conversing and moms chatting. Zayn’s dad stood to the side, somewhat awkwardly, unsure of what conversation he would be welcome in.

Zayn and Louis just surveyed everything, from their families to the crowds around them of students they had grown up with, to the football field they hadn’t ever actually set foot on until today. “This is crazy,” Louis voiced, watching as workers began to fold up the chairs on the field and put them on rolling racks to push back into the building for storage.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathed. “Surreal too.”

Soon, Louis’ mom said that the family was going to go home. They had driven separately from Louis since he had been required to be here early for lining up and double check wardrobe as there was a strict dress code. It was the only reason he was wearing a collared shirt right now. “Stay as long as you want though,” she assured him. “I’m sure there are a lot of people you want to see before you leave.”

She had no idea how untrue her last statement was as Louis was really only interested in seeing about four people. But he waved as his family walked away to the car. Zayn’s family was taking off too, waving a goodbye, and then the two of them began venturing through the crowd. They quickly found Liam, a mutual friend they partied with. They took a selfie with him before moving on. In reality, Louis was looking for Harry and he had a hunch that Zayn knew that.

It took five more minutes to find him, Louis now alone as Zayn had taken off when he’d seen his favorite art teacher and ran to go talk to him. Louis was then left approaching Harry on his own and the jump he felt in his chest when Harry spotted him should not have been so intense.          

“Hey!” Harry said as he approached, excitement apparent in his tone. He had his graduation cap back on, curls poking out from beneath, and the same Raybans on his face that Louis had seen a number of times by now. His long arms spread to either side as he readied to engulf Louis in a hug. He found himself pressed against Harry with his hands around his back. It lasted a little long to be considered platonic but Louis couldn’t help himself; Harry smelled very good and gave most excellent hugs.

“You’re going to Niall’s party tonight, right?” Harry asked. The hope in his eyes should not have been so apparent. Louis tried to ignore the tension in his gut at the sight.

“Yeah, of course! Niall sent you the invite?”

“Yup, we became Facebook friends at the last party and I got a personal Facebook message requesting the presence of my dancing skills for this one.” The cheekiest smile was on Harry’s face.

“Oh my gosh.”

“I’ve even got whip cream vodka to bring, for celebration purposes.”

Louis laughed softly at the seriousness in Harry’s tone while mentioning such a flavor of alcohol. Harry beamed. “He lives only a couple blocks from me, over on Scud Road, you can park at mine if you want and walk over.” Louis didn’t know why he’d offered; it simply slipped from his lips.

“Thanks Lou,” Harry replied. “What time are you going to head over?”

“Probably around ten.”

“I’ll see you then.” There was another award winning smile, and then he strode off, leaving Louis with so many butterflies in his stomach in anticipation for the night that he wondered how he would ever make it until ten.

Around five minutes later, he was headed home. He had tagged along with Zayn to talk to a few other people, take a few more selfies, give a few more hugs, and then they had departed.

“See you tonight?” Louis had called out his window as they waited side-by-side at the stop light by the school. Louis was headed straight and Zayn was turning left.

“See you there!” When the light turned green, Zayn floored it, his Jeep taking just a millisecond to catch on the pavement before it went into a tight left turn and he sped off. Louis just laughed and then floored his own vehicle.

*     *     *

 “Niall fucking loves you,” Louis told him as they walked the couple of blocks to Niall’s house. “He texted me earlier to check if you were coming and he seemed almost panicked that you wouldn’t.”

“He is a precious human being,” Harry responded, adjusting the straps of the small drawstring backpack he had on, containing just the bottle of vodka he had promised. He had left his car keys at Louis’ to ensure no drunk driving, not that he was concerned he would try it. “Better safe than sorry though,” he had said as he set the keys by Louis’ on a table by the front door before they headed over.

They were approaching the porch of Niall’s house now, passing the small plasticized sign in the front lawn announcing that “You’re in the right place!”

“Subtle,” Harry said as they heard the music inside change tracks, the next piece a heavy dubstep mix. “The cops will never know a party is here, the night after graduation. They’ll _never_ suspect a—“

“LOUIS! HARRY!” Niall was already drunk, flinging the door open to the house before they had even had the chance to ring the bell.

“Some one is having fun,” Harry said, clapping the other boy on the back. Louis was highly amused as their friendship purely stemmed from the last party they had attended together, but it was beautiful.

“Sure am, let me get you guys a couple beers!”

“Thanks, but I’m just sticking to herb tonight,” Louis told him. Niall just nodded and put down on of the two fingers he had held up before heading to the kitchen, hand still shoulder height and indicating one beer.

Harry followed while Louis threw the light jacket he had donned on a hook by the door. He patted his pocket to make sure he still had his weed and then headed into the party.

Zayn was easy to find, perched on the arm of one of the sofas in the living room, already stoned and hanging onto every word some pretty blonde beside him said. He had a thing for blondes.

Louis found himself in conversation with a girl who was voicing a very long-winded appreciation for his Vans Off the Wall shirt and really wishing he had headed straight to the patio to smoke. He was saved by Harry, like the boy had somehow sensed his need for escape, who came over to inform him that he was wanted for a game of Never Have I Ever downstairs.

“People are already at that point of the night?” Louis laughed as Harry led him away. The girl looked disappointed and Louis wondered if he had been giving off straight vibes.

“Guess so, but I don’t know how you’re going to play if you aren’t drinking tonight,” Harry said.

“Probably will after I’m high if I’m being honest,” Louis told him as they approached the basement door. “It’s just that if you’re going to cross fade, then you always want to smoke first, it fucks you up less.”

“Never knew,” Harry said, a thoughtful note to his voice. He opened the door and motioned for Louis to go first. He obliged and led the way downstairs, past a couple people talking on the stairs, solo cups in hand.

“But they won’t make me drink or anything, my friends aren’t that intense,” Louis assured Harry. “Are you playing too?”

“Think so, at least I think they sent me for you so that I’d play too,” Harry said. Louis wondered how they’d known that Harry would be an enticement for him.

It became apparent as he approached the sectional sofa in the corner at which the game participants were arranged. On one end was a girl Louis didn’t know, then there was Ed in the middle, Ed’s friend Ruby whom Louis had met just once before, then the culprit; Liam, and his girlfriend Sophia.

“I heard a request for my presence,” Louis said, giving Liam a hard look.

“That it is,” Ed said. “Grab a drink and sit down.”

“I’m not drinking tonight,” Louis told them. “Just smoking.”

“Whatever suits you man,” Liam said, picking his own cup up off the coffee table and taking a sip. Louis and Harry seated themselves in the two remaining seats, Louis beside Sophia and Harry on the small rolling ottoman seat. Louis distinctly remembered riding it across the wood floors of this basement on another occasion. He may have also been screaming about bumper cars while doing so.

“Who wants to go first?” Ruby asked, eyeing everyone.

Liam offered and thus began one of the most interesting games of never have I ever Louis had ever played. And it was because Harry was involved.

“Never have I ever had sex.”

“Never have I ever drunkenly made out with someone and then forgotten who they were the next day” (this one was followed by a very pointed “fuck you” by Ruby whom Ed had geared it at).

“Never have I ever smoked weed” (Sophia had very pointedly said this one to Louis and he wasn’t sure if he even knew her well enough for her to pull shit like that but he let it go).

“Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex” (Ruby smugly smiled when this one was said, since being the only gender neutral person at their school, she _had_ never kissed someone of the same gender). Louis was able to get away with questions such as these because of a well-known incident between Zayn and him. It covered the fact that he may not have been out to everyone in the room and Louis never thought he would be thankful for a weed induced experimental kiss. Well… experimental on Zayn’s part.

The questions continued and everyone was taking gulps of their drinks and Louis was learning so much. But mostly about Harry. And oh was it good.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note that whenever street names are mentioned in this, there is significance to them so if you want to have some fun you could Google them ;)

_Won’t you stay ‘til the a.m._

_All my favorite conversations_

_Always made in the a.m._

* * *

 

 Louis was learning a lot. Mostly about Harry because that was all he could seem to pay attention to during the game of Never Have I Ever.

Here was the list Louis’ brain had composed by the end of the game:

1) Harry was not a virgin.

2) He had never done a shot of Everclear.

3) He had never drunkenly made out with someone and then forgotten who they were.

4) He had never smoked weed (although Louis had already known that).

5) He had never had a one nigh stand (although Harry took a moment to answer this one, and Louis felt like there was a story behind that)

6) He had never kissed someone of the same sex.

7) He had never smoked a cigarette (this one he brought up himself on his turn).

 

There were many more truth offerings during the game, but Louis’ brain was only keeping tab of the answers that he felt the need to. It was mostly a tab of any questions that could tell Louis about Harry’s sexuality and right now, they were all saying the same thing; straight.

By the end of the game, everyone else was getting to the point of true drunkenness and Louis was still completely sober. He was itching to smoke so badly his hand was actually twitching. It’s not like he was addicted to marijuana, you couldn’t be as it was only behavioral addiction and not biological, but he hated being the only sober one, feeling too conscious of everything going on. He was feeling everything a little too intensely.

“I’m headed outside to smoke, anyone want to join me?” Louis asked. He knew Ed smoked on occasion, Ruby too, and he looked at the two of them, happy to share a joint if either wanted.

“I gotta pass, I can’t smoke after the beers,” Ed said. Ruby nodded in agreement with Ed and Louis was left to head upstairs by himself – except Harry was following him and he was completely conscious of it and he wondered when they had become such a package deal, not that Louis was going to argue with it.

They walked through the kitchen, Harry’s arm springing out to keep a drunk Niall from stumbling backwards into Louis.

“Thanks,” Louis murmured. Then he opened the sliding patio door and headed to the backyard. The one thing he was always conscious of was smoking in other people’s houses. As far as he was concerned, his house was the only one he would ever smoke inside. Even at Zayn’s they always smoked on the roof outside his bedroom window or out back beside the little water feature his mom had installed two summers ago. It always made Louis have to pee because of the incessant bubbling of the water.

Harry closed the door behind himself and Louis went to sit on the garden wall, pulling the baggie from his pocket as he went. The fact that Harry had followed him out here, full well knowing Louis was going to smoke dispelled his fears of judgment from the other day at the dog park.

Louis’ nimble fingers pulled out the joint, then he dug in his other pocket for his lighter. He flicked it open, small flame jumping to life as he sat. Harry sat on the wall beside him, silent. Louis wondered what Harry was thinking as he lit the joint and brought it to his lips.

When he glanced up, Harry was watching him, curiosity written on his features. He seemed enthralled with watching Louis. It was silent for a while as Louis gazed out into the yard, aware of Harry but thinking about else.

“How quickly can you feel it?” Harry’s voice made Louis jump and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t that quiet, as the music and voices from outside carrying onto the patio. Maybe it was the question itself that had startled him.

Louis took another drag before answering. “Not yet, but in less than five minutes.” There was a pause. “It also depends on the quality of the weed though.” Harry nodded, lips parted slightly as he listened. His focus was intense and Louis reminded himself that Harry had been drinking a lot already.

It was silent again for a while, the wind stirring the branches in the large maple tree beside the patio, leaves rustling and the wood creaking. It almost seemed like there might be a storm later in the night.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” Harry must have noticed it too, gazing up at the sky where a sizeable amount of stars were concealed by heavy clouds.

“Maybe,” Louis replied, looking up too and away from Harry, a feat considering his sharp jawline was on full display due to the angle of his lifted face. “It smells like it.” He heard Harry suck in a deep breath through his nose, incredibly over exaggerated. Louis smiled.

“I’d agree.”

“We have to walk back to mine.”

“Oh… yeah.”

“Should we leave before the rain starts?”

“I won’t be able to drive home though.”

There was a moment’s hesitation where Louis wondered where the line was.

“You can just stay at mine.”

“That’s okay?”

“For sure. We can just watch movies if we can’t fall asleep since it’s not even that late.”

“I hope you have good movies.” Louis took that as agreement to stay.

“Putlocker does.” Louis wasn’t even looking but he could _feel_ that Harry smiled. “Let me just finish this and then we should head out,” Louis told him, nodding to the joint in his hands.

Harry nodded, pushing his hands down his thighs and then scratching the heel of his right one. “Sure.”

They said goodbye to Niall before they left, although there was no way he would remember it in the morning. Liam also saw them on their way out and waved. They didn’t see Zayn but Louis shot him a quick text so he would know they weren’t at the house anymore. He would see it at some point during the night.

“It’s cold tonight,” Harry noted as they closed the front door behind them. It took him a moment as he slipped on the step, feet clumsy from alcohol, and Louis threw out an arm to steady him before retracting it at lightening speed. Why did his brain have to act so weird around Harry?

“Whoops!” Harry said, sounding like a child as he caught himself with a hand on the railing. Louis laughed lightly, unable to resist the accidental charm that was Harry’s entire demeanor.

“Let’s go Trippy,” Louis said, heading down the path that connected with Niall’s driveway and then the street.

“Excuse me, but I don’t think I’m the one tripping right now,” Harry corrected. Louis turned to see him smiling, proud of himself for his own pun.

“I’m not on _acid_ Harry,” Louis laughed. “But also, let’s keep our mouths shut on the topic while we’re walking down the street.”

Harry pretended to lock his mouth and throw away the key as he trailed behind Louis. They drew even when they reached the public sidewalk, walking side-by-side. Their shoulders brushed occasionally.

“What do you want to watch when we get to mine?” Louis asked.

“What’s your favorite movie?”

It was a loaded question. “It’s too hard to pick favorites!” Louis whined.

“Well what’s one you’ve liked that came out recently?” Harry asked, and then amended with, “And you would want to watch again.”

Louis took a moment to think. “Ya know, I hated having to read the book for class, in fact I didn’t, but _The Great Gatsby_ was a fucking beautiful movie.”

“I haven’t seen it,” Harry said. Louis practically broke his neck turning to look at Harry and make sure he wasn’t joking. Or, at least that’s what it felt like. He was high so he really didn’t know. “I did, however, read the book for class.” There was a teasing note in Harry’s voice.

“But you didn’t see the movie? The beautiful movie with Leonardo DiCaprio?”

“No, I didn’t get around to it.”

“Well I guess we know what we are watching then.”

As they turned the corner off Scud Road and onto Moonraker Street, Louis’s house came into sight. Harry’s car was parked on his driveway, as well as his and his mother’s. Louis momentarily wondered if he should be worried. He was bringing home Harry, who was underage and drunk, and himself who was high. But then he glanced at the time, clicking the home button on his phone quickly, and realized that she would be asleep, along with everyone else in the house. They would be fine.

Louis pulled his key from his pocket to unlock the door and they both kicked their shoes off, adding to the pile on the rug of little purple accented gym shoes and Hello Kitty ballet flats, before heading downstairs.

It took Louis a bit to find his DVD of _The Great Gatsby_ and put it into the player, so Harry was already flopped across the futon when he finally went to sit. They ended up slouched across it together, both of them less aware of contact and their limbs locations than usual. Louis’ heart still seemed to be able to beat erratically however. He tried to focus on the screen, watching Nick Carraway move into his small house in East Egg beside the mysterious Gatsby. He eventually did get enveloped in the movie, absorbed by the story and the beauty of the timeless scenes. The party scenes were amazing; in fact, he’d forgotten how well crafted they were.

Harry remarked at a couple spots, proof that he was avidly watching as well. “This is more true to book than I expected,” he noted, “But they did skip the side plot of Nick and Jordan dating.”

“That was in the book?”

Louis only received a sigh in answer, fake disappointment that he had not read the work. Louis smiled.

*     *     *

Louis didn’t know why he’d woken up, but what he did know was that he wanted to go back to sleep. He just snuggled back into the pillow beneath his head, keeping his eyes scrunched closed. Because of this, it took him a long, sleep addled moment to add up all the details about his current situation. The pillow was not that of a bed, but the suede of one of those on his futon. The TV was quietly playing music, defaulted back to the DVD menu after _The Great Gatbsy_ had completely run its course. The surface on which he slept was not as comfortable as his bed, but the lumpiness of the futon mattress. But most of all, there was something warm curled against his chest.

Louis slowly opened his eyes, blinking to see in the darkness of his room. It may have been morning, but the window wells did not allow for much sunlight to penetrate the basement even at the height of the day. The TV was indeed still on, allowing just enough extra light for Louis to see Harry, curled on the futon too, still asleep. They were laying facing each other, staggered so that Harry’s face was even with Louis chests. He could feel his warm breath through the thin cotton of his shirt each time Harry exhaled. Louis swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. Their legs were tangled, Harry’s bent so as to fit on the futon, socked feet alternated with Louis’ on a pillow at the far end. Harry’s arms were tucked between them, pulled against his chest. Louis wondered if he was cold, as Louis was at the moment too. One of Louis’ arms was draped around Harry, not holding him but just resting. The other was pinned beneath the two of them, heavy with a lack of blood flow, completely asleep.

Forgetting his arm, Louis took a long moment to watch Harry. His face was incredibly relaxed in sleep, all lines of worry that knit his eyebrows together gone, the tautness of his jaw flexing vanished. He looked incredibly young, not like someone who had graduated high school days before but someone who was just beginning it. The only thing that remained in his sleep was the purse of his lips and the hinting of laugh lines by his eyes. Louis wanted to stroke his cheek but knew he couldn’t. That right there would be crossing the line. But Louis ached to cross it; he wanted to so badly he was going to burst. He knew he couldn’t, knew it would ruin everything they’d built over the last thirteen days. He wouldn’t.

Louis was terrified to move however. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, wanted it to last forever actually, but his vaguely present moral compass was telling him that something felt wrong. Watching Harry sleep when they had accidentally become unconscious last night during the movie was an invasion of privacy. He felt like a peeping Tom, and it didn’t sit well. Harry hadn’t agreed to this, to this kind of vulnerability with Louis. There was something extremely intimate about sleeping together, as simple as it was.

On the other hand, it felt rude to wake Harry. To have fallen asleep on the futon and been asleep all night, he must have been exhausted. That was based on the assumption, however, that if Harry had awoken during the night and found himself in this predicament, that he would have gotten up and left. Deep down, Louis was hoping that was not the case. Something told him it wasn’t.

All decision making was put to the side however as Harry stirred. Louis didn’t think he’d done anything to awaken the other boy but he was shifting ever so slightly. His knees pulled up tighter, running along Louis’ legs as they did, and he shuffled his shoulders, curling further into Louis and towards his hands that were sandwiched between them, his nose pressing into Louis and poking his sternum. Louis thought that it was rather cat-like and also that his heart was about to burst with fondness.

Harry appeared to have lapsed back into deeper sleep again, not having actually woken, and so Louis was back to his dilemma. Wake him or not?

Or Louis could back to sleep…

So that’s what he did.

 *     *     *

The next time Louis woke, it was because Harry was moving beside him. By the time he had opened his eyes, Harry was halfway across the room and Louis’s heart immediately sank; he was leaving, trying to sneak out before Louis woke. But then he heard the bathroom door shut, followed by the distinctive sound of someone peeing into the toilet bowl. The sink followed that up, the squeak of the turning faucet audible and then the running water. There was a silent moment in which Louis assumed Harry was drying his hands and then the door clicked open again. Louis had a moment in which he entertained the idea of pretending to be asleep still but then he sat up, bringing himself into Harry’s line of sight over the back of the sofa.

Before he said anything, Louis stretched, hands extending towards the ceiling.

“Morning.” Harry’s morning voice stopped Louis short because, well, _fuck_. It was so raspy and Louis was taken aback by the sensual nature of it. This boy was going to be the death of him.

“Good morning.” Louis responded in a somewhat untimely manner, Harry’s voice having distracted him. “Guess the movie wasn’t holding our attention,” he joked.

“I honestly think I only saw about the first hour,” Harry said, rubbing his face and moving back towards the futon. He rested his hands on the back, locking out his elbows and causing his biceps to bulge out. Louis idly wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

“You got me beat, I only lasted about twenty minutes,” Louis told him, trying to look at his face and not his naturally toned arms. It took a lot of focus.

“Isn’t it funny that we were sleeping on a futon and yet we couldn’t even fold it down to have enough space,” Harry pointed out, talking so slow Louis wondered how he was stringing his thoughts together. It was like he was still asleep.

“That’s what happens when you start consuming beer before dinner time,” Louis laughed, thinking about the ridiculous day they’d had.

“True, alcohol will take it out of you.”

The small talk ceased and Louis couldn’t tell if the small talk had been more awkward or if the silence now was worse.

“I’m going to brush my teeth, I think I have a package of new tooth brushes if you want one,” Louis offered, climbing off the sofa. He couldn’t sit here anymore and try to figure out what the current situation was.

“I should probably head home…” Harry said, voice fading off at the end. “My family is probably wondering where I am.”

Louis nodded in understanding. Having a mom who was actually home probably meant that someone was keeping tabs on your whereabouts.

Louis popped into the bathroom and quickly brushed his teeth, unable to stand the feeling off them being dirty, and then headed upstairs with Harry. It took a moment for them to locate his boots, kicked behind the door when they’d gotten in last night. He pulled them on quickly, and then ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry if I over stayed my welcome,” he said as he took a step towards the door.

“Oh, totally doesn’t matter,” Louis assured him. He fiddled with the end of his shirt, then knit his fingers together. “Honestly, my house has such an open door policy you could stop by whenever and I wouldn’t even blink an eye.” Louis hoped he took him up on the insinuated offer in that sentence. Louis would honestly not mind Harry stopping by whenever to hang out, to just chill, to do anything really.

Harry smiled and Louis’ heart fluttered. “Thanks, might just take you up on that. It’s going to get boring now that summer has started. I’m not going to know what to do with myself.”

“Me neither.”

There was an uncomfortable moment after that where Harry’s arms started to rise, like he was going to hug Louis goodbye maybe? And then they fell back down and he turned towards the door, looking through the glass. “Well, I should probably be going then.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re family is wondering where you’re at.” Louis tried to not let his voice sound disheartened.

“See you later at Zayn’s grad party,” Harry said as he slipped out the door.

“Bye!” Louis called as it shut behind him. Harry waved one hand over his shoulder to let Louis know that he’d heard.

Louis waited by the door until Harry had pulled out of the driveway and was headed down the street and then he went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give me feedback! It means so much!


	12. Chapter 12

_So I take a sip, wait ‘til it hits_

_That liquid guilt is on my lips_

_I’m wasted on you_

* * *

 

Louis’s car came to a stop on the street as he considered where to park. He was arriving tactfully late to Zayn’s party and the amount of cars outside the house was making it difficult to find space for the Charger. Louis had to settle on parallel parking between a Honda and some sort of small crossover SUV a couple houses down, the furthest he thought he’d ever had to park from Zayn’s. Since when were Zayn and him this social?

As Louis gathered his things, another car slowly drove down the street, someone else looking for a spot to park. He took little notice, opening his door after it had passed and climbing out of his Charger.

As he tucked his keys and phone into his pocket, he heard someone call from behind him.

“Louis!”

He turned to see that the car that had driven past, that he had assumed to be that of another partygoer, had been Harry’s. The taller boy was striding towards him now, face bearing a grin and seemingly lit from within.

“Hey Harry!” Louis called back, halting to wait for Harry to catch up. He broke into a half jog so that Louis wouldn’t be waiting as long.

They then walked up to the house together, past the beautifully tended flowers Louis knew Trisha Malik adored and up the few steps to the front door. It was unlocked and Louis led the way in, knowing his way through the house like the back of his hand.

Music could be heard from the basement so Louis led Harry that way, weaving between the discarded shoes by the door and past Bentley who was lying on the living room sofa. His tail thumped twice against the cushions as he spotted Harry and Louis moving past, recognizing them.

The party was in full swing when Louis and Harry reached the basement, the same faces as the night before greeting them. Louis knew that this was what every graduation party would be this summer, but he couldn’t seem to care as someone handed him a can of Corona and Ed slapped him on the back in welcome. Same faces, same drinks, same music, same games but it was something and it made them all feel alive.

Louis and Harry melded into the crowd and began mingling with the familiar faces. It was mostly talk of how bad their hangovers had been that morning as they had almost all been at Niall’s on Saturday.

“Not but I’m serious, it tastes awful but _it works_ ,” Louis heard Harry say somewhere nearby. He tuned his ears into his voice, wondering what he was talking about. “I swear, chug a bottle of coconut water and the headache will be gone in an hour.”

A loud laugh answered him and Louis knew he had been talking to Niall. As he tuned back into the conversation surrounding him about how Olly had seen Liam making out with his girlfriend in the bathroom last night, the song changed.

Louis didn’t think he had ever seen Harry move so fast. His long legs pulled him to the dance floor, Niall following behind and Louis was reminded of the first party he had ever been at with Harry when he had danced with the blonde for hours in the most ridiculous way. “I like us better when we’re wasted,” Niall yelled as the chorus hit. This time however, the dancing was not a joke and suddenly Harry was swaying his hips while holding a can of beer and Louis couldn’t look away. Fuck, he’d barely even drank one beer and suddenly he couldn’t control where his line of sight went.

“Beer pong?” Louis hurriedly asked Olly.

“Sure!” Olly was always up for beer pong despite his terrible skills.

They both sought out a partner from the crowd, Louis grabbing Liam (but not before throwing a jab at him about Sophia) and Olly grabbing Ed. Then they headed to the old dining table to the side of the room. The red cups were scattered across it, filled with water. Louis always found it funny how parties never had actual beer in the cups anymore, competitive nature taking over the desire to be shit faced. Everyone still drank during, of course, just no chugging.

Part way through the game, Zayn and a friend of his from art classes came over and called playing the winning team.

“Oh, looks like they’ll be playing us,” Louis said, turning to Liam, a snide note in his voice.

“Assuming your lead is safe Tomlinson?” Ed asked.

“I’d say it’s set in stone,” Liam told Ed, motioning to the table. Two cups sat side-by-side before Olly and Ed. Five were arranged before Liam and Louis still.

“Everyone likes an underdog,” Olly sing songed as he tossed his ping-pong ball. It missed the pyramid of cups by a good four inches. “Fuck, missed again.”

“Olly is shut out,” Louis called like an announcer. “Ed’s holding your whole team together!”

“I’m getting another beer,” Olly muttered, departing the table and coming back with enough for each of them. Louis wasn’t sure if this was the third or fourth round of beers Olly had fetched during the game.

The banter continued until Liam’s ping-pong ball splashed into their last cup on the fly. Liam’s hand hadn’t even fallen yet from his toss and he immediately swung it straight around to high five Louis in one smooth motion. They both immediately regretted the vigor with which they contacted their hands as they cradled them, the sting of the hit burning both their skin.

“Ow!” Louis whined, voice getting so high pitched at the end that Bentley was probably the only one who could hear it.

“You child!” Zayn called from his chair off to the side, spectating the game. Louis shot him a glare as he smiled mischievously, trying to hide his smirk by grabbing the rim of his empty solo cup between his teeth, but the crinkles beside his eyes were still visible.

“Little shit!” Louis called back, a smile pulling at his own lips as he pretended to angrily strut towards Zayn until he was standing between his knees. “You think this is funny?” Louis asked as he bent down, getting within an inch of his face.

Zayn was now holding the empty solo cup between them like a small shield and Louis hit it with the back of his hand, knocking it from Zayn’s loose, intoxicated grasp. Zayn gasped in mock shock. “I can’t believe you!” Zayn snapped playfully whole throwing his hands up.

Louis grabbed his wrists and next thing he knew, him and Zayn were both in the small arm chair, wrestling as they both tried to push the other’s hands away. Louis was straight up _giggling_ like a little boy and Zayn was emitting the most beautiful laugh that had ever graced any of their ears and Louis couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so silly and free. This was why they were best friends. Also why they were occasionally asked if they were dating, despite Zayn’s obvious singular interest in blonde woman.

It wasn’t until Louis fell from the chair that anyone intervened in their play fight. “Be careful guys,” Harry’s voice warned as a large hand was offered to Louis to help him off the floor. Louis heart jumped to his throat. The only thing that helped him keep his cool was the three more beers he had consumed during the game.

“Nah, the floor is comfortable,” he told Harry, flopping onto his stomach and resting his cheek on the rough carpeting. “I think Zayn even vacuumed for us.”

“True!” Zayn called from his slumped position in the armchair.

“C’mon Lou,” Harry said, bending down and rolling him over.

“Whyyyyy,” Louis whined. He really did regress when he drank.

Harry didn’t answer him, just picked him up by the armpits and put him on his feet. He himself was quite intoxicated however and had some trouble getting the limp Louis up.

“Louis!” Liam called. “We’ve got another game if you’re drunk ass is up for it!”

He stuck his tongue out at Liam as he moved away from Harry to go embark on the next game of beer pong. Just before he stepped out of range however, he instinctively grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled him along too. “Want to watch?” he asked as he forced Harry to follow.

“Do I have a choice?” Louis could tell he was smiling.

“Guess not.”

This game took longer as everyone was more inebriated as well as consuming alcohol at a faster rate. Louis missed several shots because of his hyper awareness of Harry’s vicinity, essentially sabotaging his own chances of winning by demanding the other boy’s presence.

But he enjoyed it all the same because Harry cheered raucously each time Louis landed a throw into one of the cups and he booed whenever Zayn’s team did the same. It only egged on the continued play fight between the two of them, trash talking each other across the table. When Zayn’s teammate made the final throw and they won, Zayn sprinted around the table and wrestled Louis into a headlock.

“I win!” he cheered over the music as he mussed Louis hair. “I win!” He did the same to Harry, then bounced off into the crowd, elated. Drunk Zayn was sure a sight to see.

Much to Louis surprise, Harry gave chase. And then, he pulled exactly what Louis had and looped his hand around Louis’ arm at the last moment to pull him along as well.

The three of them ended up in the middle of the dance floor. Louis tackled Zayn, jumping on his back and slinging an arm across his chest to hold himself up. He momentarily felt Harry’s hands on his back, like he had been attempting to steady Louis. People around them cheered, drunkenly driven into vocalization by anything that seemed wild. Louis threw the hand that wasn’t keeping him on his perch into the air, fist pumping. The people around them cheered again.

“Wait, lemme change the song,” Zayn said, pushing through the few layers of friends between them and the stereo where his phone was plugged in (with Louis still on his back). Louis kept his grip as Zayn leaned over to grab it and poked the screen a couple of times.

 

_All I do is win win win no matter what_

_got money on my mind, I can never get enough_

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Louis said, pummeling Zayn’s shoulder with his free hand. “Stop bragging!”

It was eventually the laughs that caused Louis to tumble from Zayn’s back, unable to hold on as they pawed at each other. “We get it, you won!” Louis said reproachfully as he fell.

Hands caught him and slowed his decent and he subconsciously registered them and knew whose they were. “Harry, help!” Louis said as he sat amongst the crowd, sticking his hands straight up.

“Oh, _now_ you want my help,” Harry said, sounding like a parent. “Last time you wanted to stay on the floor.”

“I want up,” Louis said, popping the P. “Help!” He popped the P again.

Harry grabbed his hands and pulled him up, attempting to steady him with large, clumsy hands as Louis swayed on the spot.

Once he had stopped swaying side-to-side, Louis focused his eyes on the coolers along the wall. “Imma get another,” he informed Harry. “Want one?”

Harry hesitated, then nodded and Louis pranced off to grab two cans. Harry waited patiently for his return.

They popped the cans open at the same time and then Harry started dancing as he took his first sip from it, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he began swaying his hips to the beat.

Louis’ mouth went dry, eyes focusing on the bead of sweat forming at the curve of Harry’s jawline. Fuck. He quickly took a large gulp from his own beer and then averted his eyes, looking at the people around them instead. Liam was nearby with his girlfriend, Sophia, dancing with their foreheads together as they moved to the music, being the disgustingly perfect couple they were. Zayn was just behind them, popping his shoulders up and down to the beat like he was in a rap music video.

“Dance Louis!” Harry told him, drawing his attention back to the boy before him.

“Sorry, I don’t really—I can’t—“ Louis gave up on words as he met Harry’s eyes. His train of thought ended, then a new one entered his mind with only one thing on it; Harry. And then he walked away.

“Lou?” Harry called as he pushed his way past people and to the stairs of the basement. Louis knew Harry was pursuing him, the reason he was leaving the room following him from it, but he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t trust himself around Harry. He didn’t trust himself not to do something that would push their friendship, would cross a line, would ruin the one of the few good things he had. He couldn’t, _he wouldn’t_ , put Harry in that position.

Louis threw open the door at the top of the flight of stairs, unsure how he had scaled the steps so quickly in his current condition, and walked into Zayn’s empty kitchen. He could hear Harry behind him still, but further now, slowed by the stairs as Louis should have been. He wasn’t sure how he had scaled them so easily.

He set his beer on the counter and braced his hands on the flat surface, staring down at the flecks in the mica and demanding himself to stop thinking about Harry and just have a good time. He needed to stop thinking about Harry in _that_ way and just be his friend. He was a great friend, why couldn’t Louis just manage to leave it at that?

“Louis?” Harry had finally scaled the stairs, his feet no longer hindering him. Louis didn’t answer him, just continued to stare at the counter top. “What’s going on?” Harry asked. He had closed the basement door behind him, the sound of the music from below muffled, the beat from the subwoofer the only thing permeating the air around them.

Louis was using all of his self control to not look at Harry at that moment, because if he did, that would be it. The alcohol wasn’t letting him control his wants enough, and he knew that if he looked at Harry with his sparkling eyes, sharp jawline, toned arms, that it would be it, and apparently, it wasn’t only the sight of Harry that would break Louis self control.

Harry placed a hesitant hand on Louis shoulder. “Lou?” he asked hesitantly again. Louis turned, swept a hand into the back of Harry’s curls, and pulled him down. Their lips met and Louis sucked Harry’s bottom one into his mouth and sighed out of his nose. Every coiled nerve in his body relaxed, finally getting the relief of acting on his emotions.

Then, all his nerves coiled back up, like springs compressing. Because Harry was frozen, lips like stone. Louis froze too, realizing what he’d done.

And then Harry wrapped his arms around Louis back, pulling him flush against his chest. And he _kissed_ Louis, pressing his lips firmly back against Louis’ and tilting his head for a better angle.

Every red light that had been present in Louis’ brain flashed to green. _Go_.

His hands fisted in the front of Harry’s shirt, pulling on the flannel and putting strain on the buttons as he used it to pull Harry down to his level and relax back onto his heels. Harry moved his arms to envelope Louis further and deepened the kiss, tongue sliding into Louis’ mouth.

Louis reveled in the way Harry kissed, like it was the last thing he would ever do in life, like it was the only talent he had and he must prove himself, like the taste of Louis was his life source. It was exhilarating and Louis had to pull away to breath. The second their mouths parted, Harry moved his lips to Louis’s neck, sucking on the skin above the taught tendon as Louis tilted his head to give Harry access. Louis momentarily felt the brush of Harry’s teeth, then the smoothness of his tongue soothing over the mark he must have left.

“ _Fuck_ ” he breathed as Harry moved his lips down and went after Louis’s collarbones, just available around the loose neck of his shirt. Harry nipped right at the bone, causing Louis to gasp again. Then Louis scrabbled at his shoulders and Harry understood the message, lifting his head to reconnect their mouths. Louis bit at his bottom lip, the fullness astounding him.

Harry slowly pushed him back against the counter top, the edge digging into Louis’ bum. It isn’t until Harry brought his hands around to the back of Louis’ thighs that he understood what Harry was trying to do and he hopped up onto the counter top, only disconnecting their mouths for a moment.

Harry immediately pushed his torso between Louis’ legs and slid his hands up the front of Louis’ legs to rest on his hips, pushing onto the nobs of the bones. Louis’s hands cupped Harry’s face as he languidly kissed him, enjoying every moment. They slide up into Harry’s hair and utterly destroyed the backswept look it had been styled in.

Harry leaned his head into Louis hands, enjoying their current location and Louis was reminded of a cat. Louis curved his fingers so his blunt fingernails ran against Harry’s scalp and heard Harry make a pleased sound in the back of his throat. Louis removed his lips from Harry’s and went to his ear, ghosting them across his cheek along the way, and then nipping and sucking at his lobe. Harry sighed in ecstasy and his hands relaxed from Louis’s hips to grip his thighs, nearly encompassing them.

A rattle of a doorknob sounded suddenly and someone entered from the basement. Harry jumped back, removing his hands from Louis and automatically moving to his own hair to sweep through it nervously.

Louis turned to see Liam standing in the doorframe, his hand on the knob as he glanced between them. Then he smiled at Louis and slowly retreated, calling to someone behind him, “You know what? We can get water from the bathroom sink down here.”

Louis looked at Harry, an ample three feet between them now as Louis sat on the counter and Harry stood on the kitchen tiles. He was looking down at them, studying the ceramic. Louis wondered what he was thinking.

“You kissed me back.” Louis voice was small and his ankles were crossed, feet nervously swinging and tapping his heels against the cabinets.

Harry smiled.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for more Halo lingo

_If you leave me now_

_I can heal somehow_

* * *

 

“So how’s Harry?”

Zayn and Louis were in the basement, lounging across the futon with a tangle of feet in the middle as they played through the _Halo_ campaign. Louis finished emptying a round into the giant alien charging his character and then spoke.

“He’s good, why?”

“Because I know you’re texting him and you keep glancing at the clock which means he’s probably coming over later.” Zayn was much more attentive than Louis gave him credit for. Especially since they’d both been high not even two hours ago.

“Correct and—fuck—correct,” Louis answered him as his character rounded a corner and was ambushed by a group of grunts. He threw a plasma grenade and then backed around the corner again to be safe from the blast. Zayn’s character joined him a moment later.

“How’s it going though? You guys have been together for – aw YES – a week?” Zayn’s character had found a rocket launcher. The game was about to get so much more fun.

“Five days I guess… technically.”

“But you’re not counting or anything.” Louis gently kicked Zayn. Harry and him had kissed five days ago and had been “together” since. They weren’t dating, no Louis was scared to use that terminology, but had seen each other almost every other day and acted perhaps as if they were. They hadn’t gone on a true “date” but they had been spending more time together and getting to know one another even more. Tonight, Louis had invited Harry over to watch a movie.

“Lot of aliens on the radar,” Zayn said, pulling Louis back to reality. He readied his character, plasma rifle in hand.

They worked together through fighting the throng of aliens and then moved on to capturing two of the Banshees and flew to the next destination.

 

 

Louis’s mom got home around dinnertime, bringing takeout with her. The girls all gathered around the table in excitement and Louis reminded Phoebe and Daisy to wash their hands, as he knew they always “forgot”. He helped them reach the sink, holding them around the waist to lift them, while his mom set the table and Lottie filled glasses of water for everyone.

It was the first time in five days that Louis’s mom had sat at the dinner table with the rest of them. Usually, she was home too late and they ate dinner just the kids. Louis or Lottie usually made the food. Today felt strange.

On top of all that, Louis also noticed that his mother seemed to be making more of an effort than usual to make conversation with all of them. With Louis’s off-hand attitude about life and Lottie’s attachment to her phone, their mom usually asked only the younger kids about their days. During the school year, she asked what they had learned in class. In the summer months, she asked what they’d been up to all day. Tonight was different.

“How was your day Louis?” He looked up from his slice of pepperoni pizza to check if his mom was actually addressing him.

“Fine.”

“That’s all? What did you do today?”

Louis shrugged as he pulled the pepperoni off his slice of pizza, absentmindedly. “Zayn came over for a bit.”

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the week?”

What the hell was going on. “Is this twenty questions?”

He could see his mother deflate. The one thing she never did was fight back. “Sorry Lou, I was just curious.”

Louis still wasn’t looking at her. Under his breath, he murmured, “And that’s something new?” sarcastically. The small snicker from Lottie beside him let Louis know she had heard him. Whoops.

“What about you Phoebe, what did you and Fizzy get up to today?”

Louis sighed, happy the attention was away from him. He didn’t like his mom asking questions, he didn’t like her being home really. It was strange. He felt ashamed sometimes of how dismissive he was of his mother at times, but it was hard to be okay with her lack of presence. This meal was the first time he’d been in the same room as her for more than half an hour all week.

“I’ll be home tomorrow and we can go to the park then,” Louis’s mom told the girls. Phoebe had apparently expressed how much she wanted to go. Lottie was going to take the twins earlier in the day, but there had been a drizzle. The fact that his mom would be home all day made his heart sink. It was only once a week that this occurred, but when it did he hated it. She felt too involved with their lives then. Louis was too accustomed to her not being there. He had essentially raised himself and his sisters, it was disconcerting for her to come in and pretend it had been her all along.

“Oh Lou, by the way, you got a piece of mail today.” His mom was pointing to the kitchen counter where the stack of mail was sitting that she had brought in when she arrived home. Louis now stood, taking his untouched plate of food to the dishwasher as long as he was standing, and grabbed the letter. It was a big envelope, one of the ones as large as a full sheet of paper. He ripped it open and dumped out the contents onto the counter. It was a packet from Illinois State University, a letter on top requesting that he confirm his attendance for the fall semester. Along with it was a course catalog and a sheet with directions as to how to make his student account and enroll in courses online.

Louis took a moment to process all the information before him, glancing over the materials and shuffling them as he made sense of the letters.

“What is it Louis?” his mother asked.

“Nothing.” He gathered everything into one neat stack, and then headed to the basement door. “Lottie can help you clean up, right?”

It was a remark he would feel bad about later, but right now all he knew was that he didn’t want to speak a word about college with his mom. He didn’t want to speak a word about it to anyone in fact. He closed the basement door behind him without waiting for an answer and plodded down the stairs, tossing the papers and course booklet onto the floor by the TV before flopping onto his bed.

Staring at the white ceiling, Louis let his mind run blank. He hated planning for the future, for thinking about who he would eventually be. He couldn’t imagine much besides this, right now. He didn’t know a thing that would be happening after this summer.

From upstairs, he could vaguely hear the voices of his family and then the clink of the dishes as they cleaned up. Guilt stabbed at Louis’s stomach for a moment, but it was overridden by a hunger pang; he had not eaten one bite of the pizza.

           

 

Harry arrived at quarter to eight, clad in his usual skinny jeans and a Henley, and Louis couldn’t look away.

“Hey.” Louis sounded out of breath; it was almost embarrassing except for the part where Harry looked pleased because of it.

“Hey,” Harry said, mimicking his tone and then pulling him in for an all-encompassing hug. Louis snuggled into him, but just a little bit. “Where are your sisters at?”

“Twins are napping, Lottie is upstairs, Fizzy is out back, reading probably.” Louis was a good brother, if nothing else. He always knew what they were up to, knew it better than his mother even did. She had run to the store, grocery shopping being imperative (hence the takeout pizza for dinner).

They settled on watching _Pirates of the Caribbean_ as they both agreed that they needed more Johnny Depp in their lives.

“I haven’t seen the first movie in ages,” Louis said as he plugged the HDMI cord into his laptop and the illegal stream of the movie flickered to life on the television.

“Same. Is there four now?” Harry asked as he repositioned himself on the futon to make room for Louis.

“Maybe more, I can’t keep up with it anymore,” Louis said as he settled into Harry’s side.

In the end, they didn’t watch very much of the movie at all. They spent most of it with Louis straddling Harry on the futon, lips pressed together. When Harry snuck his fingertips beneath Louis’s loose fitting t-shirt, he ground his hips down, causing Harry’s to buck up of their own accord and a noise to escape him, distracting him from his agenda. Louis returned to languidly kissing Harry, hands on his abs and a sneaky smile on his lips, which Harry returned.

 

The first weeks of summer progressed much the same as this. Louis’s mother was working as much as ever, leaving Louis to act as the parent the majority of the time. He didn’t leave his house a lot, but when he did it was to go one of four places: Zayn’s, Harry’s, the skate shop, or the dog park. He was getting high more than ever, Zayn too, and wallowing in the boredom of summer. They stayed up late, and Louis got up early to care for his sisters. He was a full-time parent who also had a part-time job and a kind-of relationship to handle. It was tedious but all together not as stressful as he would have expected. None of it seemed to come at a cost to the others. His job at the skate shop was relaxed, never more than two customers browsing the boards at the same time, and his sisters were never much to handle. Lottie did her share too, between being home and working part-time as a lifeguard at the community pool.

            Zayn sometimes swung by late at night, his jeep roofless and the moonlight ample. Louis snuck out the cellar door on these nights and did circles around town with Zayn, weed smell in their wake. The police didn’t care as there worse things to worry about than two teens enjoying their summer freedom. Sometimes, they skated around the neighborhood and then smoked while sitting in the highest platform of the children’s park, late at night when no kids would be there. Louis felt like something from an angsty teenage film.

Harry came over every couple days, sometimes sneaking into the basement through the cellar doors late at night. He usually gave Louis only a few minutes notice, and then he was there in his lanky glory. Louis’s sisters came to expect his presence, despite Louis’s mother still not knowing of his existence; if she was home, Harry came in through the cellar door, or didn’t visit at all. Louis was pretty sure that Lottie was the only member of his family who even had an inkling that they were together. Louis felt content to keep it that way.

Louis went to Harry’s just a couple times, running into his older sister once. She looked exactly like Harry, the resemblance uncanny, and worshipped the family cats. Louis liked her, from what he knew. But usually, Harry and him met at Louis’s, the need for an adult to be in the house and privacy of the basement bedroom making it the better option.

These nights usually consisted of Harry pushing Louis down onto the bed or futon and clambering atop him to make out. Louis loved it. It was a good start to a hot summer, a good start to their lives after high school.

It was late on a Wednesday, Louis just returned from closing the skate shop for the day, when his phone lit up, Harry asking if he was home. Louis responded quickly, knowing that Harry would be coming by if he were asking. Louis quickly tossed the clothes on his bed in the hamper and threw away the empty cans of energy drinks that had accumulated around the room. It was the bare minimum cleaning he did for when anyone came over.

Ten minutes later, the cellar doors opened. Louis wondered if he should be concerned about the fact that he always left them unlocked but then Harry was distracting him, striding over and kissing him before even greeting Louis.

“Hello to you too,” Louis murmured around the lips pressed to his own.

“Hmmmm,” Harry hummed back, slipping his hands under Louis’s shirt and running them over his hips, visible above the band of his boxers.

“Harry,” Louis smiled into the kiss, drawing back slightly. Harry simply followed, kissing Louis’s neck now instead of his mouth. “Harry,” Louis tried again, pulling back a second time. Harry’s attention was caught, his hands falling from Louis’s body.

“What is it?” Harry’s brows were knit together with genuine concern.

“I…” and the truth was, Louis didn’t know why he had made Harry stop. They’d been doing this for over a week; having steamy makeouts in the basement with Louis’s whole family two floors above. What was he doing?

“What?” Harry’s voice was soft as he reached out to brush a hand down Louis’s arm. Louis felt butterflies in his stomach.

Instead of answering, Louis moved to the futon, plopping down and putting his face in his hands. He was confused, not recognizing what was troubling him. Harry followed, sitting beside him. A warm hand stroked down his back. “What Lou?”

“I just…” Louis trailed off as his eyes landed on the college informational packet lying on his floor, untouched since it had arrived and he had thrown it there. He thought of how Harry had strode in moments ago with such vigor, intent purely to kiss Louis. And now he knew what was bothering him, but should he say?

Harry waited, and his patience was kind. His hand was still moving gently up and down Louis’s back. It was silent, the only noise a neighbor’s car pulling into their driveway and somewhere, a dog barking to the stars.

“What are we doing Harry?” Louis’s voice was small.

“Sitting on your futon.”

“No Harry, like what is happening between you and me, what is this?”

“Like a relationship? Are you asking if we are dating?”

            “No, although that’s a good question too. But we only have the summer. What are we doing? You’re going to school in downtown Chicago, and I’ll be who knows where flunking, and why are we starting this now, and—“

Louis didn’t realize he had started crying a little and Harry was taken aback for a moment, not knowing where such a rush of emotions was coming from. His hands floated around for a moment, unsure how to help or if he was wanted. He settled on running a soothing hand down Louis back again and gently pulling Louis closer, into his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes?”

Harry’s chest shook the tiniest bit with laughter at that and some of the tension in Louis’s own chest eased. “But seriously Harry, what are we doing?”

“I mean, we over two months. It’s not super long but it’s time to spend together.” Somehow, neither of them considered the fact that they might not last the summer, that the end wouldn’t be when they packed their bags for college.

“We have an expiration date.” Louis’s voice was so small, face still pressed into Harry’s chest, and he wasn’t sure if Harry would hear the words.

“We don’t have to.” Harry’s was almost whispering.

“Am I being unrealistic or are you?”

“Both?”

“It’s only two months.”

“It’s two months for us to figure it out.”    

“So… talk about it later?” Louis sniffed, tears ceased. They had, thankfully, been short lived. He felt like a goddamn mess.

“Yeah?”

“Okay.”

In the moment, it felt like they’d been in agreement. Harry had said they had time, had suggested they don’t focus on the time frame right now. Louis had brought it up, yes, but Harry had also humored the conversation. He hadn’t immediately shut it down, had felt comfortable with the short but emotional discussion that had occurred. Or so Louis had thought.

But after that night, Harry didn’t answer his phone nor stop by for a week. It was over. And Louis wasn’t okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you're thinking so far!
> 
> I am out of prewritten chapters at this point, so in the next few weeks I might miss an update as I am heading towards my university finals but once summer hits, I will have plenty of time during the week to write and then update on time so don't worry!
> 
> I am very curious if anyone has been looking up the songs from which the lyrics at the beginning are pulled, let me know if you have!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, so if you don't remember there was a disclaimer at the beginning with trigger warnings and *SPOILER ALERT* those start coming into play now. I don't want to cause anyone issues so please don't read if the trigger warnings at the beginning are something you need to be wary of.

_As the smile fell from your face I fell with it_

_Our faces blue_

_There's a heart stain on the carpet_

_I left it, I left it with you_

* * *

 

_I don’t know man, I thought he was into you._

Louis didn’t much feel like responding to the message, but he did.

_Me too._

Zayn didn’t text again after that. He knew Louis well enough to realize he should leave the subject alone. It had been a week since Louis had last seen or heard from Harry. There had been no contact since Louis had broached the topic of their expiration date. Perhaps it had been too soon.

He tossed his phone to the side and then unpaused the game, immersing himself back into _Grand Theft Auto_. “Ah fuck off,” he yelled into the headset as a police car slammed into the convertible he’d stolen and spun him into a fence. He was caught.

“Louis,” Lottie called from upstairs. “Are we going to make dinner soon?”

“Yeah,” he called back as he restarted the game and began making his way through the city again. “Just give me a minute.” He heard the door upstairs click shut. She would probably have made dinner by the time he headed to the kitchen. He wasn’t nearly as helpful right now.

When he died again, he checked his phone. There were no notifications on the screen. He hesitated for a moment, torn, and then unlocked it and dialed Harry. For the fourth time that week, it went straight to voicemail: dead. Louis chucked his phone onto his bed, bouncing it off the pillows, before going upstai

*     *     *

 It was later that night, after a pitiful dinner when he had pretended to be interested in the food for about twenty minutes before going back downstairs, when his phone rang. At first, he didn’t know what it was. The ringtone was muffled under the pillow where he had left it hours earlier and undistinguishable from the noises happening on the episode of _Criminal Minds_ playing on the TV. When he finally realized what it was, his phone had stopped ringing. He rushed over to his bed, throwing the pillows and blankets to the floor to find his cell.

The number that had called wasn’t registered in his contacts but it was a local area code. He sat on the bed cross-legged, oversized t-shirt falling off one shoulder and socks slouched to the knobs of his ankles, wondering if he should call back. Was there a chance it was Harry? Maybe he got a new phone. But Harry would have told him, would have scurried in through the cellar door and let him know. Right? Maybe?

Louis wasn’t left to ponder anymore as his cellphone began ringing again. It was the same number. He hurriedly answered it, fumbling for a moment to hit the right button and almost dropping the device.

“Hello?”

“Is this Louis?”

“Yes…?” The voice on the other end seemed familiar somehow, but Louis couldn’t place it.

“This is Gemma, Harry’ sister.”

Oh. OH. What the fuck had happened? “Oh, hi Gemma.”

“This is going to sound real weird, but can you come over here?”

“Why? Is Harry okay?”

“I don’t know, just can you come over?” She sounded slightly panicked, on the verge of pleading and Louis could not figure out why.

“Um…” Louis glanced down at the outfit he had been wearing for two days. He had called in sick to the skate shop yesterday.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, see you soon.” Gemma hung up and Louis stared at his phone for a moment. What the fuck? But then he pulled himself together and went to his dresser, pulling out a clean shirt and grabbing the stick of deodorant off the top. He didn’t have time to take a shower but he was going to try his hardest to seem like he had.

“Lottie, I’ll be back in a bit,” Louis called as he shoved his feet into a pair of vans by the front door. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Wait what? You’re going out?” Her voice was carrying from the other room. “Louis, what’s going on?” Her voice was drawing nearer and now she was in the entry way too, confused look on her face.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be back before mom gets home.”

“Lou, you’ve barely left your room all week. What’s going on?”

“Bye Lottie.” He was out the door before she could reproach again. He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling her where he was going.

 

The drive to Harry’s was short, under ten minutes. The quaint house with the porch and dormers looked as inviting as ever, but Louis felt a sense of dread as he pulled up. Usually, he saw a pair of bright eyes spot him from a window when his car approached. Now, the house was just silent.

He slowly walked up the door, nerves consuming his body. After he knocked, he glanced around, wondering where he should puke if he was going to do so. He had never really felt this nervous before, not for a long time.

“Louis I’m so glad you came,” Gemma said, pulling the door open and moving aside to let Louis in. He stepped inside and glanced around cautiously.

He didn’t actually speak to Gemma, just fixed his confused, panicked eyes on her and she pointed up the stairs. “He’s in his room… Just… yeah… I don’t know, I thought you could help?”

The couple times that Louis had spoken to Gemma before, she was a self assured young adult who very much felt like the university student studying law that she was. She was well spoken and confident. Now, she was forming half sentences and speaking softly. Just her tone of voice warned Louis that something was very wrong.

He began climbing the stares, measuring his pace since his knees felt rather weak. It would be terrible to fall down the stairs. Gemma cautiously watched him from beside the front door. Louis knew where Harry’s room was and strode down the hall to it. The upstairs was silent. The wooden door was cracked, just the tiniest slice of the space within visible. Louis knocked on the frame, forewarning that he was there. When there was no answer, Louis hesitantly pushed the door open.

He did not really know what he was expecting. There had been so much build up in his mind that the room seemed calm when he stepped inside. However, anyone who hasn’t psyched themselves up for the worst would have disagreed. The room was a mess, contrary to the few other times Louis had been there. Clothes littered the ground, unfolded and tossed aside. Pillows from the bed had found their way to the carpet as well. Items from all over had been set aside aimlessly; a few hair products, water bottles, Harry’s camera bag, hair ties, a pair of sunglasses, a coffee mug on its side, books, an open bag of chips. It was even worse than Louis’s room, which was a feat in and of itself. The curtains were drawn, blocking the light. What caught and held Louis’s attention amongst all this however was the small lump at the end of the bed. It was queen size, large enough for someone of Harry’s height and build to sleep like a starfish comfortably. However, the other person in the room was curled at the foot, scrunched in a ball on his side. Harry’s back was to the door and Louis didn’t know if he realized that there was someone in the room. Was he even awake?

Harry shifted then, his body moving beneath the thin sheet he had pulled over himself but still not turning around. “What?” he asked. His voice croaked, sounding like it had not been used for several days. Maybe it hadn’t.

“Harry?” The other boy stiffened as he heard Louis’s voice. He cautiously turned around, finally revealing more of himself than a back beneath a cotton sheet. Louis was surprised by what he saw, having become unaccustomed to a Harry who was not bouncing and perky since the beginning of summer. This Harry was dull and dark however, his eyes red and circles so dark beneath them that it made Louis’s stomach swoop. What had happened?

“Harry, what’s going on?”

“Louis… I…” he was lost for words, his eyebrows knitting together in that way Louis had already come to know but also hated. “What are you doing here?”

“Gemma called me,” he explained, hesitantly moving closer to the bed. “She was concerned, asked me to come over.”

“Why.” Louis wasn’t sure that Harry had actually said it, as he had turned away again and buried his face in his arm.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Louis was on the opposite side of the bed now from Harry, and the expanse of mattress felt an ocean between them. Louis’s knees and hands were shaking so badly that he did not have a choice but to sit on the bed, disturbing Harry’s nest. His weight moved the mattress, and Harry felt it. He shifted again, like he was uncomfortable. That made two.

It was silent in the room. Louis waited, unsure what to do. Did he ask again? Did he leave? What even was going on?

Several minutes passed and Louis just sat perched on the edge of the bed. He didn’t even have his full weight sat, like he was preparing to flee at a moment’s notice. His leg began to shake again, supporting some of his weight and nerves kicking back in.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice still sounded like he had been parched for about ten years. He rolled over, looked pointedly at Louis who hurriedly tried to still his shaking limbs. “Just sit on the damn bed.”

Louis had never really heard Harry talk like that, sharp and assertive. Everything about this situation just seemed… off. But Louis adjusted his weight, settling fully onto the bed and watched as Harry turned back around.

“Harry, don’t pretend I’m not here.”

No answer.

“I tried calling you a few times, did you lose your phone?”

“It’s dead.”

“Since Wednesday?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you charge it?”

Harry shrugged, sheet rustling as he moved slightly.

Louis sighed, unsure what to do. He wrung his hands nervously, fidgeting before remembering how Harry had asked him to stop moving before. He stilled. His eyes glanced over the room. The mess really was rather shocking. Harry was a generally organized and clean person.

“Harry, when was the last time you got out of the bed?”

Another shrug.

“Have you been in here all week?”

It was silent for several beats. It felt like a confirmation.

“Harry, please, just talk to me.”

And because Louis was trying to stay so still, to not shake the bed again, he could feel it shaking. It wasn’t him this time though; it was Harry. His shoulders were shaking and his breath was audible and Louis realized he was crying, and didn’t know how long he had been. Had tears been leaking out of his eyes since the last time he turned around?

Louis didn’t ask though of course, he didn’t need to know, just needed Harry to be okay. From what, he had no clue but he scooted across the mattress and joined Harry in the far corner he had decided to occupy and folded himself around the scrunched human.

He didn’t realize that he was talking to Harry until he was folded around him—despite the obvious size difference—acting as the big spoon. He was slowly shushing him and whispering “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and Louis didn’t know where the instinct like this to comfort someone came form. Maybe it was from parenting his sisters for so many years but he didn’t focus on that in the moment. Instead, he focused on Harry. His sobs had become audible and he was pulling in breaths sharply between them. Louis ran his hand up and down Harry’s side, comforting, pressing kisses to the back of his head. Harry’s hair was greasy and Louis didn’t know the last time that he showered but the same could be said of him, so he didn’t care and simply comforted.

Eventually, Harry’s breath evened out, the body wracking sobs having stopped. Louis ceased speaking a long time ago, settling for comforting touches and the protection of his own body warmth behind Harry. It had seemed to help. It had become silent now, stillness overtaking the room. Louis didn’t know what to expect, what would come next. He was out of his depth and playing it by ear, the only familiarity to the situation the feeling of Harry in his arms. The last week of no contact had not erased the two that came before it.

“Louis, can we take a nap?” It was the first time Harry had spoken in half an hour, since the crying had begun, and his voice sounded like it had been through a war.

“Yeah Harry, we can do that.” Louis nuzzled his face into Harry’s shoulder as he spoke. “If that’s what you want.” He tightened his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling them closer together. Harry nodded, rustling the sheets beneath his head.

As they both drifted off to sleep, one perpetually tired and one exhausted by tears, Louis couldn’t help but think of the role reversal that had just occurred from the last time they had seen each other. Hopefully, this would not be a pattern.

*     *     *

 It was around an hour later when they woke, Harry stirring and finally moving from the spot at the end of the mattress. He was out the door and down the hall in the bathroom before Louis had fully regained consciousness, a situation that felt comfortingly familiar. The confusion in that scenario seemed like nothing compared to now. Louis sat up, stretching his cramped limbs, and noticed something on the floor.

It appeared to be an external hard drive, crushed to the point of disrepair. Louis got off the bed, crouching on the ground to pick up the pieces. He was cradling them in his hands when Harry returned, walking through the doorway while pushing his hair out of his face.

“Harry what happened?” Louis asked, turning around to show what was in his hands. Harry stopped short, his face falling and slightly uplifted demeanor changing, reverting to the small person he had been earlier.

“Oh, nothing, an accident.” He strode forward quickly and snatched the hard drive, opening a drawer of his dresser at random and shoving it inside. “That’s what happens when you leave all your shit on the floor.” His accompanying chuckle sounded so unnatural that Louis began feeling nervous again. He wasn’t going to ask though, as that seemed like the worst possible reaction to the situation. Mostly because Harry had sobbed the last time Louis had persistently inquired about what the fuck was going on here.

Harry closed the dresser drawer and turned around, looking very unsure of what happened next. Louis could honestly say he felt the same. “Let’s go get some water,” he suggested. Harry’s voice had gotten worse again since sleeping and Louis couldn’t imagine how dehydrated and shitty Harry must feel if he had been laying in this room for days on end. Let alone the fact that he should eat something, but Louis didn’t know if either of them could manage that right now.

“Gemma is going to shit herself, isn’t she,” Harry said as he let Louis tow him from the room.

Louis didn’t respond, just kept gripping Harry’s wrist and leading him to the stairs. They carefully descended and headed to the kitchen where Louis filled a glasses of water from the tap for both of them. He could hear Gemma in the front room, an office of sorts on the first floor, but she didn’t come to see what was going on. He figured that she had the same idea as him as to not inquire too much about Harry’s current state.

“I think my mom is going to be home soon.” Harry was right beside Louis, seeming to crave human contact now that Louis was here and had cuddled him. They were leant up against the counter, sides touching and elbows brushing. “You probably need to get back to your sisters.”

“Lottie has it under control if you want me to stay,” Louis said, looking into his now half empty glass. He wasn’t sure if it was on offer he should be making. Lottie had been looking after their siblings nearly all week, he should help, but also he wouldn’t be able to say no if Harry wanted him here.

There was a considerable silence after that, like Harry was thinking. Louis wondered if he wanted him to stay longer but didn’t want to ask. The clock on the wall ticked in the silence.

“You should be with your family,” Harry told him. “It’s late anyways, your mom might be worried.”

Louis knew that Harry did not understand the dynamic there, that he had not shared that part of his life with Harry yet, in theory or in practice, but it did little to convince Louis to drive back to his home. So he leaned against the counter for some time longer, skin tingling where it touched Harry’s, and exchanged silence with him. It seemed like it was calming to Harry.

Gemma finally came out of the front room, her face looking worn but a smile on her lips. “Harry, are you interested in dinner? I think mom is going to be home soon.”

Harry meekly nodded and looked at Louis. “Are you going to go home for dinner?” he asked quietly, he didn’t want Gemma to hear.

Louis hesitated before answering, not sure what Harry needed. “Yeah, I really should be getting home. Text me though?”

Harry smiled and it was the first time Louis had seen that grin in over a week. “Yeah,” he breathed.

Louis nodded, hesitating for a moment. He wanted to kiss Harry, or hug him, but he didn’t know if he was okay with that right now, or okay with it in front of Gemma. Harry noticed the hesitation and spread his arms, pulling Louis in for a hug and burying his face into the crook of Louis’s shoulder.

Harry didn’t say anything when he released him, just stepped back. Louis headed to the front door by himself and pulled his shoes on, ready to let himself out. Gemma joined him though, following him from the kitchen.

“Thank you for coming over,” she said in a low tone, one that would not carry to the kitchen. “I didn’t know what to do and you kept calling his phone before it died and so it was my only bet and I’m so glad you came.”

“Do you know what happened?” Louis asked, wondering if anyone was aware of what was going on with Harry.

“No, I really don’t.” There was a faraway look in her eyes, like this was something that she had pondered a lot. Louis knew he would now too. “He has just never been the same since the year I left for college. I don’t feel like I know him anymore.”

There was silence as Louis finished tying his shoe, quiet seeming to be the reoccurring theme to the day. “I think I’ll be seeing you around,” he said in way of a goodbye.

“Me too. Bye Louis.”

The door clicked shut behind him and he felt like he had aged several years since the last time he crossed that threshold. He didn’t understand it, but at least it was something seemed better now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, please let me know what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys (Do I even have people who are keeping up with this fic? I don't even know). I am so sorry it took forever to get this up! I have have been so busy between moving home for the summer and then helping my sister do the same and also starting my summer job but things should chill out after this so no other weekends over the summer should get skipped (but don't hold me to that with like a knife to my throat or anything). I hope a Monday works just as well as a Sunday for an upload!

_I want to sleep next to you_

_But that’s all I want to do right now_

_And I want to come home to you_

_But home is just a room full of my safest sounds_

* * *

 

“So, you guys are together again then?”

“Yeah, it was just an off week,” Louis said, skirting the truth as he took the weed bowl Zayn was handing him. It was Louis’s favorite one, a twisted green-blue glass that reminded him of the ocean.

“That’s good.” Louis knew Zayn was becoming less talkative as the weed took affect, slowly affecting his brain processes, slowing down some thought. “This is some good shit.”

Louis took the hit, closing his eyes as he sucked the smoke into his lungs, feeling them tighten. He hadn’t been high in a couple days and he had missed it. He slowly expelled the smoke, pointing it towards the cellar door Zayn had propped open upon his arrival. Per usual, Louis was making sure that the smell wasn’t reaching upstairs. He passed the bowl back.

Zayn took another hit, slowly and methodically. Louis’s stared at the blank TV in front of them. He could subtly see his own reflection. It had been two days since Louis had been to Harry’s. He hadn’t seen the taller boy again since that strange day, but they had texted and talked on the phone. Louis knew he was feeling better, could tell in the enthusiasm that was reentering his tone each day, perking up. Louis still had not asked what the hell had happened, why Harry entered such a depressive episode, and he did not intend to. Louis was scared, and couldn’t imagine how Harry must feel. The entire situation frankly scared the crap out of him; he had reacted so strangely and Harry had been so different. Neither had been in their shining moment, but Harry was obviously the worst off of the two.

“Lou?” Apparently Zayn had been trying to get his attention for a while, as he had literally needed to shake Louis’s shoulder before he had noticed. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing, just day dreaming.” The white lie came with too much ease, but his hands still shook.

“Well screw your head back on straight because I want to shoot some zombies,” Zayn declared, pointing to where _Call of Duty: Zombies_ lay in its case on the floor. At one time, all of the Xbox games had been neatly stacked on a shelf of the entertainment center, but not anymore. Not for years probably. Louis preferred having to tip toe and pick his way around his room apparently.

“We are going to _suck_ at that right now,” Louis pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s what makes it fun,” Zayn responded, using his foot to slowly pull one of the controllers closer to him from where it rested on the carpet. “Just a few more hits and we will barely be able to play.”

Louis smiled and took the offered bowl from Zayn for another hit before kneeling down to put the game into the console. 

*     *     * 

Harry came over the next day, texting Louis while he was at the pool with his sisters to ask what he was doing after dinner. Louis of course replied that Harry should come, told him to come through the basement since his mom would be home. It was hours before then however, so Louis sat in the shallow end of the pool, Phoebe and Daisy splashing happily beside him with water wings while Fizzy sat in the lounge chair beside their belongings, reading a book. Fizzy was Louis’s polar opposite sometimes. Lottie was working, sat high in her lifeguarding chair near the diving pool. Phoebe and Daisy had already gone to tell her hi twice.

They had eaten the sandwiches about an hour ago that Louis had packed in a cooler bag, using Germ-X on their hands before sitting under the meager shade of the umbrella to scarf down lunch. Louis couldn’t tell if Phoebe and Daisy were that hungry or just wanted to get back to the pool that badly. They did end up back in the kiddie pool in what seemed to be record time.

Louis could quite literally feel his skin burning, so he returned to the chairs with the twins after another hour and reapplied sunscreen, despite their protests.

“Do you want a sunburn? They’re no fun,” Louis said in his best calm voice.

“I want to play in the pool!” Daisy complained.

“You can when you have more sunscreen on,” Louis told her as he rubbed it on her arm. “Fizzy, can you grab Phoebe?”

His sister looked up from the novel she was consuming to see Phoebe making a break back to the pool, not having had sunscreen reapplied yet. “Damn it Phoebe!” Fizzy said as she threw down her magazine and chased after Phoebe before she could try to start swimming without her water wings.

“Yeah, dam-min it Phoebe!” Daisy said, mimicking her sister.

“That’s not a nice word Daisy, we don’t say that,” Louis told her, his serious face on still.

“Sorry.”

They lasted another hour before Daisy and Phoebe were exhausted, water wing aided swimming having tired their tiny limbs. “Fizzy, you ready to go?” The twins were both wrapping themselves in towels, dripping water onto the pavement. “Put your wings in the bag,” Louis told them, pointing to the canvas tote.

“Sure, just let me pack up my things.”

It took twenty minutes to get the three girls packed, too the car, and buckled in. Louis remembered why he didn’t often take his siblings places all together. He would be exhausted later.

 

His mom got home just before dinner, walking into a house where Lottie (also returned about an hour prior from her long day at the pool) and Louis stood in the kitchen cooking. They worked around one another, pulling the needed dishes from the cabinets and checking the chicken in the oven occasionally.

Despite the fact that he had not sat down in about three hours, Louis was in a good mood. It had been a good day, his sisters were happy, and it was the most content he had felt in a while.

“Look at you guys, getting along,” his mother said as she set her purse and lunch bag down. Good mood gone. Louis really wished sometimes that he didn’t feel so irrationally angry about almost everything his mother did. Neither of them responded to her statement and Louis wondered if Lottie was sometimes as frustrated as he was.

Everyone ate quickly, starved from the long day, and Louis was able to retreat to his basement room soon thereafter. He checked his phone and saw that Harry had not texted him yet to say that he was on his way over, so Louis decided he had enough time to take a shower.

He quickly worked the shampoo through his hair and scrubbed his skin before shutting off the water and stepping out and onto the bathmat. It was as his foot touched the rug that he thought he heard the cellar door open. It was subtle though, just the smallest protest of the hinges. He couldn’t be sure.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Louis muttered. He hadn’t brought clothes into the bathroom with him. “Shit.” He toweled off, ruffling his hair too and trying to get it somewhat dry, before wrapping the towel around his waist before cracking the door out to his room.

“Louis?” Shit. It was Harry.

“Hey Harry, sorry, I…um…” and now Louis had stepped out into the basement and seen Harry, who was laying across the end of his bed, shirt riding up slightly to show v lines and arms behind his head. Everything about his body language was the exact opposite from the last time that Louis had seen him lying at the foot of a bed. “I took a quick shower.” His voice sounded distracted.

“Hey Louis.” His voice was small but relaxed and Louis hadn’t realized he had been tensed until his shoulders relaxed upon hearing Harry’s voice like that.

“I’m just going to grab clothes and… yeah.” Louis hurried to his dresser where he grabbed a pair of boxers, gym shorts, and a t-shirt before popping back into the bathroom to change. Harry whistled as Louis dodged his way back in past the door, perhaps rushing a bit too much.

When Louis reappeared, Harry was sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Louis was stopped by how perfectly soft he looked: gym shorts, a sweatshirt, a beanie, socked feet. It was all so… cuddly.

Louis slid onto the bed beside him, scooting over so that they were touching knees. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Harry’s hand reached over and rested on Louis’s knee, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. Louis wasn’t sure where they were at again with their relationship but at least he knew causal touches were in.

“How are you doing?”

Harry’s thumb that had been rubbing back and forth on the soft skin on the side of Louis’s knee stilled. His eyebrows pinched together. “Can we… not—“

“Forget I said anything.” The sentence was rushed but Louis didn’t want to upset Harry. He wanted Harry to be happy and right here and unconcerned. And if Harry wanted Louis to be unconcerned too, then he would try his hardest to be.

There was a moment of silence in which Louis could feel Harry’s eyes on him. He felt like he was being scrutinized, causing him to get antsy. He shuffled his feet, not meeting Harry’s gaze, when suddenly Harry spoke.

“Were you outside today?”

“Wait what?” That was not what Louis was expecting.

“You look tan.”

“Oh yeah, probably because I was at the pool with my sisters.”

A thoughtful look came over Harry’s face then, his eyes focusing on something past Louis. The look in Harry’s eyes seemed faraway. “Do I get to meet them sometime?”

It was an innocent enough question but suddenly Louis was terrified. It was by no means the fact that he didn’t trust his sisters with Harry, or that he didn’t think it should happen. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of Harry either, quite on the opposite was true in fact. It was the fact that Harry meeting his sisters meant that this was real, that this was real enough that it was something that _should_ happen. It scared Louis because explaining a break up to little kids (Lottie and Fizzy were old enough, but the twins were the concern with this point) was difficult; they didn’t understand that sort of thing. Harry, to Louis, was insinuating that this would last, enough so that meeting his little sisters was something that should be in the works.

“Lou?”

Louis didn’t know how long he had zoned out for, suddenly immersed in his own stressors. Louis quickly shook his head, clearing his mind. “Yeah, sorry Harry. But yeah, it can happen soon. Phoebe and Daisy are already getting ready for bed probably, but soon.” He wondered if he sounded as strange as his voice sounded to his own ears.

The thumb on his knee was moving again and he focused on its rhythm to ground himself. “So what do you want to do?” Louis looked back at Harry now, truly meeting his eyes for perhaps the first time since he had arrived. They were so, so green. There was a quiet moment when they’re gazes locked and Louis breath hitched in his throat.

“This,” Harry said, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to Louis’s.

Sitting in the middle of his bed while kissing with knees touching as they sat cross-legged made Louis feel young, tiny, and nervous. His first kiss had been much like this, anxiously sat beside someone, unable to meet eyes. The boy, a classmate who had since moved away (to Pennsylvania if Louis remembered correctly), had swooped in unexpectedly, quick with nerves, and pecked Louis on the mouth. Now, Harry did quite the opposite and it was that which ceased any nerves Louis had felt.

Kissing Harry was simple, their lips slotting together naturally, Harry’s curls tickling Louis’s forehead. It was familiar, comfortable. Louis had been doing this a lot so far this summer.

And when Harry moved his hand from Louis’s knee to his thigh, tightening his grip slightly. He shifted more, pushing Louis down to the mattress at a measured pace. Louis happily complied, letting Harry take the lead and settle with Louis’s legs bracketing his hips, one of his hands on one said thigh and the other cupping Louis’s face, elbow resting on the bed to hold his weight.

Harry hummed in satisfaction when Louis ran his hands through his hair, fingers pressing into his scalp as his knuckles tangled amongst the curls. The reverberation between their lips had Louis hotly parting his, running his tongue against Harry’s own for a moment before Harry parted his too.

They both lost themselves for a bit, kissing and exploring one another. They had kissed before, a lot before in fact, but something about this seemed different. Harry’s hands were literally exploring Louis, hastily running over his body as their kisses grew to a point that one could call desperation. Louis was beneath, reveling in the feel of Harry’s hands, rough but soft in their actions. They both shifted at the same time, Louis to deepen the angle of their kiss and Harry to switch which elbow he maintained his weight with, when their dicks rubbed together.

They both stilled, lips separating, and suddenly Louis was met with the sight of Harry’s now messy hair and lightly dilated pupils. His tongue snuck out to wet his lips. Somewhere in Louis conscious, it registered that they had both made small noises at the occurrence.

“Harry…” Louis trailed off. They had not done anything sexual yet, nothing remotely close unless you were going to count making out on a bed. They had steered clear of such an encounter thus far, neither of them making a move towards anything more. They had not even discussed it.

Harry shook his head to attempt to fix his hair and settled back, allowing room for Louis to sit up. It seemed that their steamy make out session was over. “I’m not trying to tell you what you think,” Harry said, his deep voice breaking the silence, “but I don’t think either of us are ready.”

Louis didn’t really know what to say to that. Sure, he had been with guys before, had only ever kissed one girl actually and it was after he realized he was gay (but that’s a story for another time) but it had not been copious amounts. Louis wouldn’t consider himself experienced and he was not ready to jump headfirst into a relationship to that degree.

Harry on the other hand, Louis knew had never been with a guy in anyway until Louis (thanks to Ed for asking such explicit questions during their game of Never Have I Ever). Unless Harry was into one night stands when no kissing occurred (which did happen, but Louis doubted Harry participated) then Harry had never slept with a male. Not that, if they were to continue, that would be what happened tonight, but becoming sexual would be a huge step. Louis concluded that Harry’s statement was correct.

“Yeah,” Louis confirmed, voice coming out weaker than he expected. He coughed once. “You’re right I think.” His voice was somewhat clearer now.

“As long as we’re on the same page, yeah?” Harry’s eyes were boring into Louis and he thought he could see a sort of uncertainty in his green irises. Harry was afraid he was making a wrong move.

“Yes, of course,” Louis assured him, stomach knotting at the thought of Harry worrying that not going further tonight would somehow harm their relationship. “Only what we’re comfortable with.” Louis felt his nerves flutter as he reached to pull Harry close, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tucking the taller boy into his embrace. Harry complied, snaking his longer arms around Louis’s middle. They stayed like that for a while, the only sound their breathes and the sound of Celeste’s nails clicking on the kitchen floor above them .

“Want to watch a movie?”

Harry moved slowly like he had been, metaphorically, somewhere else. “What?” he asked slowly, twisting so that he could see Louis’s face instead of being pressed into his narrow shoulder.

“Want to watch something?” Harry took a moment to think and Louis realized that he had literally been drifting off. Louis rephrased his question after a moment. “Do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah actually, I’m so exhausted.” Harry almost sounded sheepish about confessing it.

Louis remembered suddenly how Harry had been awake, curled at the foot of his bed, when Louis had visited his home. He wondered if more of that state of awake but not conscious had been occurring, if Harry had been sleeping at night. Had he slept since then? If so, how much? He did not ask though.

“Do you want anything to sleep in?” Louis asked, disentangling himself from Harry’s limbs to prepare to stand; he would either be pulling back the blankets or fetching Harry clothes so feet on the ground were needed no matter what.

“Nah, I’m fine in this,” Harry mumbled as he too stood so that Louis could pull back the blanket for them to tuck underneath. Louis went first, settling in on his back and waiting expectantly for Harry to join him so that they could situate themselves. Harry clambered in, sliding his lean legs beneath the sheets and tucking into Louis’s side, one arm across his stomach and his head resting on his chest. Louis was surprised by the ease with which they fit together like this.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep here?” Harry asked quietly. “I can go if not.”

“Harry, I don’t mind at all,” Louis said, pulling Harry tighter to him for emphasis. “And no one ever comes down here so it’s fine. Don’t have to worry about my mom chasing you out or anything.”

Harry chuckled at that, shaking the bed slightly. “Okay, if you’re sure.” It sounded like he was already drifting off, speech slowing to a pace even slower than usual. Louis glanced down, straining to see if Harry’s eyes were closed yet without disturbing him. He thought they were.

“G’night,” Harry murmured, definitely almost out.

“Night Harry.” Louis pressed a kiss to the top of his head, noticing his hair smelled like shampoo.

 

Much like before, the weeks leading deeper into the summer continued much in this way. Seven more days, another time frame, passed with the new addition of Harry’s presence while asleep. He took to passing out in Louis’s bed or on the futon, gently curled into his own body and face soft, worry lines faded—for now. Louis adored this new habit, although he wondered what Harry’s family thought of it. Even if his mom did not know that he was seeing someone, his sister sure knew. Hopefully, Gemma would not think anything too scandalous of them.

Louis really did not want this schedule to change. He looked forward to Harry’s arrivals, knowing that they would be in each other’s presence for longer, and in a much different way. There was something comforting in having Harry feel secure enough to sleep in Louis’s presence—or arms. Granted, he had done it before they were together but the repetitive nature of his sleepovers let Louis know that he enjoyed it too. They usually slept wrapped together, one’s head on the other’s chest or spooning. Louis was always behind and Harry in front. Although their heights would suggest the opposite to be comfortable, Louis found that Harry slept more soundly when he was the one wrapped in arms. Louis was happy to be those arms.

Harry’s stays were purposeful, planned, to the extent that Harry even brought a small bag with him sometimes, usually containing just a toothbrush and clothes to sleep in. The first time he did this, he seemed sheepish. It was only the third time he had slept over, and up until now, he had presented it as something that was not premeditated. Now however, it became clear that Harry was thinking ahead about where he would be sleeping. Louis was perfectly fine with that. He liked being counted on for something so simple and pure.

Louis’s family seemed to have no clue that Harry stayed over, oblivious to the fact that his basement room now housed two on many nights. Harry always slipped out the cellar door early or parked down the street so that Louis’s mother would not witness another car on the driveway. As far as Louis could tell, she or his sisters hadn’t a clue.

Everything between Louis and Harry was becoming more intense; the amount they knew about one another, the amount of time they spent together, the activities they partook in together. Louis refused to use the word serious, but in all seriousness, that was what it all meant. Harry and Louis were becoming tied together, intertwined lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, please provide kudos and feedback! I always want to know what you think!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to preface this chapter by saying that I do not ship/believe in Kendall and Cara being in a relationship to the extent I do with Larry, but it would not surprise me if they did date at one point in time and as an AU, it was fun to include that headcanon of mine, as well as having the representation of a lesbian couple and the foil it allows in the story. No harm is meant by the inclusion of CaKe being a couple.
> 
> Also, a quick note: I have added more tags to the fic as I realized that there are tropes I ended up including but did not plan from the beginning, some of which may or may not be deal breakers for people so please scroll back up and take a glance at those! x

_What if we start to drive_

_What we close our eyes_

_Speeding through red lights into paradise_

* * *

 “What are you doing tomorrow night?” Harry asked. His voice was mellow, suiting the piano music that accompanied the credits of the movie they had just finished watching.

“Don’t know, why?” Louis murmured, still in that weird headspace that followed a lengthy film. He was gently stroking his fingers through Harry’s hair, the messy locks the only thing he could see of Harry’s head that lay on his chest.

“One of my friends is having a party,” Harry elaborated, his voice sending vibrations into Louis’s torso as he spoke. Louis tried to focus on the words being said despite the sensation. “Thought you might like to come.”

There was silence for a moment as something dawned on Louis; he had never heard Harry speak of friends before. Harry talked about Gemma, and he talked with Louis about Zayn sometimes, as the three of them hung out on occasion, but he had never heard Harry mention friends that were his and his only.

“Lou?” Harry’s head titled, green eyes coming into view as he glanced up, past the Marvel logo on Louis’s shirt, to see his face.

“I’d love to,” Louis responded. He hadn’t realized that his fingers had stopped their combing through Harry’s hair and he resumed it now. Harry made a small noise of contentment. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at ten?”

“Okay.” Louis leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple. Harry then turned and looked back at the computer on Louis’s legs, face hidden again. He shuffled to bring an arm up and navigate through Netflix to find something else to watch. Unsurprisingly, he selected an episode of _Chopped_ at random and hit play.

 

“Lottie!” Louis called, voice carrying up the stairs. Celeste barked, acknowledging Louis’s voice even if it wasn’t her name he was calling.

“What?!”

“Can you c’mere a minute?!”

The basement door clicked open and Celeste pushed past Lottie to beat her downstairs. Louis quickly stroked her head as she sat beside him before his dresser and waited for Lottie to come down too. Her socked feet padded down the stairs and then she was by his side.

“What?”

“Blue or gray?” Louis held up two shirts; one a baseball tee with blue sleeves and a white body and one a gray v neck t-shirt with a skateboarding logo on it.

“What’s this for?”

“A party.”

“Are you trying to impress anyone?”

Louis took a moment to think. “Yes?”

“Baseball tee.”

“Thank you Charlotte.”

“Anytime.” With her tone of voice, Lottie made it sound more like that wasn’t the truth.

Louis changed his shirt, Celeste now poking her nose around his room, and then checked his phone. He still had twenty minutes until Harry would be here to pick him up. Louis opened his laptop and pulled up YouTube, figuring he’d kill a couple minutes watching videos.

_Leaving mine now._ Harry text a few minutes later. Louis simply responded with a thumbs up emoji so that Harry would know he had seen the message.

 

“What’s up Curly,” Louis greeted him as he hopped into the passenger seat, leaning over to rest his hand on Harry’s thigh to balance himself as he pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s surprised lips.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Harry responded, gathering himself for a moment after the chaste kiss before knocking his car into reverse and pulling out of the driveway.

“Whose house are we going to anyways?” Louis asked, peering out the window at the suburban houses they passed. Every third or fourth one was the same as Louis’s—a cookie cutter neighborhood.

“My friend Cara’s,” Harry said, slowing the car for a stop sign and flicking on his right turn signal. “She lives in the neighborhood behind yours.”

“Did she graduate with us?” Louis didn’t remember someone named Cara, but then again their class had been big enough that Louis and Harry had not met until senior year. Who knew whom else he had missed out on encountering.

“No, a year older,” Harry replied, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Louis. “But her girlfriend is still in high school.”

This caught Louis’s attention. It was a tidbit he had not received before about Harry’s life; he knew people who also identified as part of the LGBTQ+ community. It made Louis wonder more about Harry’s own sexuality, something he had been trying not to speculate on as much. Harry had yet to make his label known to Louis and he was trying to be respectful of that. Louis returned to the topic at hand. “What’s her name?”

“Kendall,” Harry told him. Then added after a moment, “Jenner.”

Louis immediately knew who she was, as her family was well known in town. They were pretty well off, the kind of family that everyone has heard of but doesn’t really know. They were also the kind of family that everyone gossiped about. “Yeah, I know of her.”

“Well you’re going to get to know her tonight,” Harry said, a smile in his voice. “Cara and Kendall party _hard_.”

They had just arrived it seemed, Harry having pulled onto a driveway, the bump going up the curb jostling Louis in his seat. It was a nice house, large with a big bay window on the front. Louis could already see what Harry meant; there were lights strung around the porch posts and railings, and through the windows they could tell that colored lights illuminated the inside. The music could be heard, the baseline echoing through the walls, and voices carried around from behind the home. Overall, it was looking like a party fit for an aesthetic teen movie.

“Ready?” Harry asked, and Louis nodded, a smile gracing his face at the prospect of a fun night ahead of them. After a moment, Harry reciprocated it and they both disembarked from the SUV.

Harry knocked when they got to the door and Louis took a moment to steal himself. His nerves had fired up again, his stomach housing a feeling like that before a large swoop of anxiousness. Louis took a moment to suck in a deep breath of air, trying to be quiet enough that the thudding of the base would cover the noise so Harry wouldn’t hear.

The door was swung open by a familiar looking blonde who beckoned them inside. “Hey Gigi,” Harry murmured, accepting the zealous hug she gave him. “This is Louis, Louis this is Gigi.”

Louis shook her hand, thankful for the introduction. He always found it awkward being the new person at a get together, the sidepiece to the friendships at play. It looked like Harry would be good at keeping Louis a part of the mix, and for that he was thankful.

“Cara and Kendall are downstairs,” Gigi told them brightly, motioning towards an open door that presumably lead down. Harry thanked her for the info as she glided away, headed towards the kitchen where a large group appeared to be gathered.

“Drinks first or introductions?” Harry asked, turning to Louis.

“Drinks.”

Harry led him to the kitchen where he poured two cups of a mystery mix drink (a random boy assures them is just juice and vodka). Louis wasn’t sure if he trusted it but Harry went ahead and gulped from his cup without hesitation so Louis did the same.

“Downstairs we go,” Harry announced then, cup in hand and pointing towards the basement door. Louis followed.

It became clear quickly that the music was coming from the basement, the beat reverberating more heavily in Louis’s chest and the volume increasing as they descended. It was a basement suited to a party; there was a ping pong table being used for its intended purpose (beer pong of course), an entertainment system to dwarf all others, and a dart board. It was one of the fancy electronic ones that did not require sharp darts and spoke the score aloud. Several people stood by it and repeated the scores after each round so that they could be heard over the music.

Harry pushed through the crowds of people, intent it seemed upon reaching the large sectional sofa. When they drew nearer, Louis could see that there were two girls seated on the chaise lounge that created the L of it. One was who he recognized as Kendall and the other could only be Cara.

“Harry!” Cara sang, jumping to her feet, lithely extracting herself from her girlfriend’s arms. “So glad you made it!” She threw a quick arm around Harry, pulling him in for a hug, and Louis had to swallow down the bit of jealousy that scratched at his throat, wanting to say something.

Kendall got to her feet to, greeting Harry, who then turned and pulled Louis closer to the group. He hadn’t realized he had been hanging back, an awkward shadow.

“Guys this is my friend Louis.” Time stopped. Friend? What? Louis was vaguely aware that Harry was telling that these girls were Kendall and Cara but he wasn’t focused. Friend? That was the title Harry chose? Louis’s mind was reeling, wondering why this turn of events had occurred.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Cara was offering a hand and Louis brought himself back to reality just quick enough for no one to notice his internal catastrophe.

“Same,” he said, shaking her hand and plastering a smile onto his face. He knew it looked fake but he couldn’t help it.

As Harry lapsed into conversation with them, they all settled onto the couch, cups in hand. Cara and Kendall were practically seated atop one another, no space between the couple. Meanwhile, Harry arranged himself so as to leave a small gap of space between himself and Louis.

Since the latter could not find it in himself anymore to focus on the conversation, he let his mind reenter his panic mode over “friend.” Was it Harry being unwilling to label things? Or something else? Was he ashamed of Louis? His gears were grinding a mile a minute, thinking through every possibility, but to no avail. Louis could not find the answer.

“Still never seen your photography,” Cara said and Louis checked back into the conversation, finding it surprising that someone who was so friendly with Harry had not seen it. “You’ll have to send some pictures to me.”

Harry answered half-heartedly, in the way that Louis had come to realize meant that he did not want to be talking about the subject at hand. Cara did not seem to notice.

“Harry!” A voice suddenly called, audible over the loud music. Harry perked up, searching for the sound, and made eye contact with a boy amongst the crowd. The boy fought his way over, his stylized hair bouncing with his steps and adding six inches to his height. Louis was impressed that it even stayed styled in such a way.

“Nick!” Harry said, delight in his voice. Nick plopped on the far side of Cara and Kendall, immediately launching into a story about the crazy party at the end of the year for the school’s radio station and how he hoped this party could rival it. Despite his warm greeting, Harry seemed to check out of the conversation at this point, instead turning to Louis and eyeing his cup.

“Refill trip?” he asked over the din, leaning in so that Louis could hear him. Louis nodded and they headed back upstairs together. Louis was honestly surprised they had both downed their first drinks so quickly.

The pitcher they had poured drinks from before was empty now, so they faced the arrangement of bottles on the kitchen island and began critical thinking.

“Wait…” Harry said, reaching for a large clear bottle. “Is this…?” He pulled it from amongst its neighbors to see the label and gasped in excitement. “Yes _, of course_ Kendall would have peach vodka here.”

“What is so exciting about it?” Louis asked, genuinely curious.

“Because when you mix it with sprite it tastes like heaven,” Harry informed him, snatching up a liter bottle of Sprite from elsewhere amongst the makeshift bar. “It’s Kendall’s favorite drink, I should have known these would be here.”

Harry poured into both their cups, being generous with the vodka, and handed Louis his back, a sparkle in his eye. “Try it, it’s amazing!”

Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry, unsure if his leg was being pulled, and then took a sip from his cup. “Holy shit, that’s so good.”

“Right?!”

“Is that the Kendall special I saw you making?”

They both turned at the sound of a women’s voice and Louis was faced with a woman who was a bit older than them, more around Gemma’s age, with silver hair and impeccable makeup.

“Lou!” Harry greeted her, only Louis didn’t realize that that was what was occurring for a moment, thinking Harry was addressing him.

“Louis, Lou. Lou, Louis,” Harry said, moving his hand to indicate who he was speaking of as he introduced them.

“That’s not confusing,” she said, a gentle smile parting her lips. “This will be interesting.”

Harry chuckled, his shoulders bouncing up and down a couple of times. Louis met his eyes and noticed there wasn’t the sparkle there that occured when Harry laughed for him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Louis said. He wanted to know how Lou knew everyone here, seeing as she was older than any other guest he had seen, but could not think of a way to ask. Thankfully, Harry seemed to be reading his mind.

“Lou did student teaching last year in our district,” Harry explained, “and she’s really into fashion and beauty so she hit it off with Cara and Kendall. Cara is actually going to the same school next year that Lou attended.”

“I’m honestly not sure if it’s Kosher for me to be partying with you guys, but I’m not a student teacher anymore and you’re my friends so,” she stopped her sentence there, shrugged, and lifted her cup in a mock toast before throwing the rest of her drink back. “Time for a refill,” she announced.

Louis was introduced to more friends throughout the night and began to notice several patterns. The first one was that each person was explained via their connections to others at the party but never to Harry himself. Kendall was Cara’s girlfriend. Lou was their student teacher. Gigi was close with Cara. They never had a relation to Harry though.

The second thing that Louis noticed was that no one seemed to know much about Harry here. They knew base level things about Harry’s life—that he had just graduated, he was involved in the photography department, that he had a sister. But Nick had to be reminded of what Gemma’s name was, Cara had never seen Harry’s photography, someone else had to ask where Harry was going to school in the fall. These people knew Harry, but they didn’t _know_ Harry; he kept them at arm’s length.

This led to Louis’s third observation; he was not out to these people. And this was why Louis had been introduced as a friend. It was hard to realize this one, as it was what would seem a safe environment to be out in. There was a lesbian couple hosting the party after all (or on the surface so—Louis did not know the specifics of what Cara and Kendall identified as). But as the night wore on and there was no suspicion from other partygoers that Louis was dating Harry and he continued to be introduced by Harry as his friend, it had dawned upon Louis.

Now, he was left wondering who Harry _was_ out to. Perhaps it wasn’t really his business, but Louis could not help his curiosity from rearing its head. Gemma, if he was not explicitly out to her, at least had some clue, as she had contacted Louis after the week of no contact. But was he out to his mom? Or any friends that existed in his life? Perhaps Zayn and him were really the only ones, although Louis still did not even know what label Harry preferred.

It was all a strange mystery and Louis’s drunk self was finding it harder to handle the onslaught of realizations that had occurred tonight, as well as restraining himself from being too affectionate with Harry. Louis resisted his want for the gentle touches he usually left unchecked with Harry; a hand on the small of his back, tucking himself into his side, grabbing his hand when going through a crowd.

The handholding was perhaps the hardest part to avoid as it was something they had drunkenly done before they had even been together. Back at Liam’s graduation party (or was it Niall’s? Those two nights had melded together in Louis’s head) they had led one another through the crowd, hand-in-hand, most of the night. They had both drunkenly been unable to filter themselves from that action and now, they were nearing a similar point of intoxication.

Harry and Louis leaned against the back of a sofa together, waiting for their turn to throw their darts, Louis subconsciously slumped to the side, arm pressing against Harry’s. He didn’t pull away, but did not condone the behavior, giving no indication that he had noticed the contact.

“Harry,” he whined, voice quiet so as to keep others from hearing.

“What Louis?” Harry’s voice was kind.

Louis elbowed Harry, trying to indicate what he meant without saying it. He wanted contact, affection, hugs. Louis would never admit to it, but he was a needy drunk.

“You messing with me?” Harry elbowed him back playfully. Louis would take it but it wasn’t what he wanted. Louis deflated slightly, turning back to the game of darts.

They were still waiting for Cara and Gigi to finish throwing their darts and Louis was losing his patience. Drunk darts was as involved game, as it took great luck and not skill to actually hit the dart board and not the drywall behind it. The lengthiness of the game was only exaggerated by the rule Cara had insisted on which allowed her to rethrow any dart that did not hit the board. She had rethrown every dart at least once this round. Louis’s patience had already been worn thin by the many mixed drinks Harry had been concocting (they had also discovered grapefruit vodka in the kitchen). So now, Louis pushed himself away from the couch, taking a step directly in front of Harry and loudly proclaimed that they would be getting more drinks.

“We will?” Harry said, words lightly slurred but a permanently happy expression gracing his face. It made Louis smile just to see it.

“Yup.” Louis turned, resisting the urge to grip Harry by the wrist and pull him along, instead simply trusting him to follow Louis upstairs.

When they reached the doorframe at the top of the stairs however, Louis turned not towards the kitchen but towards the front.

“Lou, wrong way,” Harry called but from the gentle noise of his footsteps Louis could tell that he was still following him. Louis went to the pair of French doors that led into the lavish office of one of Cara’s parents, holding it open for Harry and then clicking it shut behind him.

Harry looked at him quizzically, still not understanding what was happening. Louis finally touched him now, steering Harry so that his back was against the wall beside the doors, tucked out of view of anyone on the first floor. Then Louis looked him in his terribly green irises and pressed his mouth to Harry’s.

Louis wasn’t sure if had truly been expecting Harry to resist, his self closeting so heavy that he would not indulge Louis while in the house, but none came. Louis pressed his body flush to Harry’s, legs slotted and hips pressing together. Harry melted against him, allowing the pressure of Louis’s own body to hold him up as he sucked Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a small groan from Harry.

Harry’s hands were expanded across Louis’s back, between his shoulder blades and resting at waist level, keeping Louis close and ensuring the sweet pressure of their bodies together.

Harry broke the kiss to mouth at Louis’s throat, pausing for a moment to highlight the moment Louis swallowed and his Adam apple bobbed. Louis felt a smile against his skin, then Harry used one hand to pull on the hem of Louis’s shirt and, by extension, pulling down the neckline so as to expose his collarbones. He nipped at these, plucking the skin between his teeth. Louis heard himself let out a tiny gasp, and his hands moved of their accord from gripping Harry’s arms to his hair, slipping between the strands to find a firm grip.

“Louis,” Harry breathed, nudging his head into Louis’s hands to encourage the action, then returned to his collarbone to suck a love bite into the skin. Louis hissed, but continued to condone Harry’s behavior. However, he really wanted Harry’s lips back against his own, so he tugged at Harry’s hair, urging him to bring them back.

Harry resisted for a moment, finishing the love bite, but Louis let out a tiny whine and Harry humored him, bringing his face back to level with Louis’s and locking their lips back together. Harry’s tongue slipped against Louis’s lips and he parted them, allowing Harry access. Louis’s hands roamed down Harry’s sides, feeling the lanky muscle and the shudder that graced Harry’s body as Louis pressed his leg between Harry’s.

He pulled back, pressing his forehead against Louis’s. “Louis…” It was a bit of a gasp.

“Harry.” Louis voice came out stronger than he had expected.

Harry dropped his head to Louis shoulder, pressing his face into Louis’s neck lightly and Louis mouthed at his ear, lips catching on the shell. Harry’s breath against his neck was uneven.

“Louis,” Harry breathed, but he sounded uncertain.

“Harry?”

“We… We can’t…shouldn’t…” And Harry’s premonition of being seen was catching up to him apparently, the realization that they were under a roof that Harry—for whatever reason—did not consider a safe space, setting in.

Louis moved back slightly, allowing air between them. Harry had not removed his encasing hands yet however, not allowing Louis to retreat any further. Harry gazed at Louis for a moment, and Louis tried to imagine what he saw. He was slightly out of breath, and his pupils were probably blown out a little. His shirt was still crooked from Harry’s manipulation for the love bite. He looked away, self conscious now.

Louis felt it but wasn’t expecting it then when Harry’s lips pressed delicately against his forehead, like an apology, before he let Louis go and slipped to the side, towards the doors.

“Did you also need a drink refill or was it completely a cover?” Harry asked, turning back to look at Louis before they went back to the act.

“It was, but now I _do_ need another drink,” Louis said, before clapping a hand over his mouth after realizing that he had in fact said that aloud.

Harry forehead knitted, concern on his face, but he beckoned Louis to follow and they headed to the kitchen where he diligently made Louis another drink. Louis led the way back downstairs, and at the top of the steps a hand gently gripped his shoulder, another small touch of apology perhaps.


End file.
